


The worst day

by Danny24



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Blood and Torture, Death, F/F, Genital Torture, Little Romance, Mutilation, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killers, bad language, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-07-03 06:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 99,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danny24/pseuds/Danny24
Summary: Detective Emma Swan has a killer on her hands that derives pleasure from torturing women.  When Emma realizes his pattern, she asks the help of FBI Profiler Regina Mills. The killing game this killer is playing becomes far more personal than what either woman realize.  Leaving the Detective to wonder, who is hunting who?  AU DarkSwan/EvilQueen.Characters are not mine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at murder; I am reluctant to call it a thriller since I have no idea if it is scary or not. Hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think?  
> I rated it explicit for the murder scenes and autopsies which are described in detail. if you are squeamish, do not read this.

**Chapter 1**

 

Her strides were long and determined as the high heel black boots glided to its destination. Her black outfit, expressionless face with dark sunglasses contributed to her no-nonsense persona. A call came in for a possible floater in her district. She hoped that there would be none of the usual pissing contests for jurisdiction.  It was one of those areas in Boston where agencies and departments overlapped. Detective Emma Swan was making her way towards the end of the pier towards the yellow taped line. Her long golden hair waved in the slight breeze. It was one of her assets that contributed to the Detective’s natural beauty and allure. Several men stopped to look at her. Only the uninformed would ever approach her. Her beauty was a vast contrasted deception for her personality.  

The early morning light reflected hazily off the water; she was already irritated. Her shaded eyes noticed everything, including the longing gazes of a few men on her way to the crime scene. The designer glasses had become almost a permanent affixture, it allowed for her cynical eye rolling, combined with that look which told you in no uncertain terms that you were an idiot in her estimation.  A few months before her Lieutenant, called her in for a reprimand.  Apparently, she was displaying aggressive behavior, she intimidated the younger officers, not only with her comments, but the eye rolling and her body language in general.  The reprimand, one of a substantial amount did not affect her. If an Officer could not take criticism, he or she had no place on a crime scene. She inhaled deeply as she made her way through the yellow police tape cordoning off the area.  The Detective showed her badge and told her name and badge number to the officer on the perimeter line.  “The media just arrived.”  He said tentative knowing her reputation and when she thanked him, she could swear he stood two feet taller.

She huffed a profanity when he was out of hearing range.  She was sure that by the end of the week he would ask her out on a date.  As she approached the end of the pier with her long strides, she saw her partner receive several twenty dollar bills. She shook her head mentally.  The reason why she always seemed to be the subject of the casual betting at the station, eluded her. The fact that her partner was one of the prime instigators amused her. As she reached him, he handed her a cup of coffee, which she took gratefully. He was the only man in her life that she was entirely confident that he used his brain.  Neal Cassidy was her person.  The person you call at three in the morning because you are too drunk to get home. The person whose name went on all the forms.  He was her partner, her best friend and the only family she had or would ever need.  Her person.

“What did you bet on this time?”  She asked as she sipped the warm black liquid he offered.  “I hope these assholes are not still betting that I will pitch up in bright colors?”  His usual frown formed on his forehead. The lines next to his mouth lit up as he smiled. His lined face and scruffy appearance negated the man he was.  He was a better cop than he was a man and an even greater friend.

“Nah, we are betting on what jacket you will wear.”

“Really?”  She asked, annoyed as she lifted her shades to look at him.  The green eyes were piercing into his brown once.  He gave her that same boyish smile she fell in love with, so many years ago.  “And you won the bet of wearing my mid-thigh jacket, because, you know I am due in court today?” He gave her one of his full smiles, lighting his face up in laugh lines. 

“Remember I gave you coffee?”  He said before she could slap him in his slight rounding stomach. “Whatever.”  It was a cop thing; they betted on the most ridiculous things at the office or on crime scenes.

She walked off.  Neal watched.  He never grew tired of watching her walk away. In his mind, if Emma Swan was a song, Per Gessle got it dead on Dangerous.  She was not only beautiful, her body was also fantastic. Even though she hid both her beauty and her body underneath her ever black exterior, he knew her before she was nicked named Dark Swan.    There were days he wished that the girl he met so many years ago would one day pitch up. As the years passed by, he saw his friend constructing more walls, the thought of the smiling girl he knew, was dimmer. As hard as it was for him, he started to accept the woman that replaced her, the old Emma, smiling into his heart on rare occasions.

“Morning Red, what do you have for us?”  Emma asked as she looked into the brilliant blue eyes of the young M.E.  When she first me Doctor Red Lucas she nearly blew a fuse.  All that Emma saw was jailbait.  However, like herself, the young, intelligent doctor had built herself a perplexed persona.  Her posture and mannerisms were direct, distant and factual. She did not tolerate stupidity or disrespect in her autopsy room. It was her way to show colleagues and Officers from the various departments, that, yes, she was young, but she had two Ph.D.'s to go with her great looks.  She learned early on that no one takes a pretty doctor seriously, but a smart one was another story.  The only indication that Red was still a twenty-something woman was a few red streaks in the otherwise long, dark brown, wavy hair.  Hence the nickname.

“Morning Emma.”  The M.E. was one of the few people on the force that ever called her by her name, even her partner Neal called her Swan.  Every Officer referred to her as Detective Swan.  She was called other names when the Officers believed she could not hear them.  Black Bitch being her favorite.  It had an enjoyable ring to it, like Wonder Woman.  She smiled slightly at the thought.

“A passerby noticed something in the water from EDIC Pier and called it in.”  Emma squatted next to the M.E. Observing the Harbor Police returning with a body bag in one of their speedboats. Red turned mischievous eyes to the detective.  “Who is going to lose their breakfast first?”  Emma returned a rare smile, just for the doctor. She looked over her shoulder to some of the newer Officers, all so eager to be part of this.

“That one,” she indicated with her head.  “Poor kid hardly fits into his vest. I will put money on him.” Doctor Lucas gave a little giggle and called Emma’s partner over.

“Have something for us already Doc?”  He asked in his boyish way.  “No,” she whispered. “The body is coming in; I want to put a twenty on that Officer.”  Neal looked at the kid. “Yikes, good spot Doc.  Wish I had seen him earlier.  That one is a sure go.”

“Neal!”  Emma reproached him. 

“What?  You say far worse things all the time!” He accused like a child.  She gave him a half smile; he was almost relieved.  Emma and Red got up as the Harbor Patrol pulled in and moved the body bag onto the pier.

The Detectives and Doctor Lucas took out their gloves that they always carried with them to crime scenes. The commotion on the pier drew the attention of the Officers; they positioned themselves a distance from where the body bag was placed.  Emma looked up into another smiling young face, who greeted them. “Swan, Cassidy, Doc.” 

“Junior!”  They greeted him in chorus. He sighed.  He hated the nickname. Emma gave him a friendly pat on the back. If the truth should ever be told, she liked Liam Jones much better than his older brother Killian Jones from District D4.

“What did you find Liam?”  Red asked him in her calm, serious voice. 

“Can’t tell Doc.  The body is a bit boiled.”  It was Harbor Patrol slang for a much-decomposed floater.

“Great! Just great.” Neal said, sounding anything but enthusiastic.  Emma gave a grim smile, and the M.E. called the officers closer. 

“Come kiddies, time to learn.”  They all knew better than to get too close, the M.E. and the detectives will work, and they will watch.  Red smiled at Emma, who winked back and then the M.E. opened the bag.  Most of the officers were leaning in, trying to get a better look, they all backed off the moment the smell in the bag reached them. Red won the bet when her rookie puked all over his shoes as a crap climbed out of an eye socket, the other eye a ghostly glassy blue, staring at nothing in the distance. The body was indeed in a state. “Neal, bag that crab!”  Red told him as the little fellow tried to make its way out of the body bag. He shook his head, but an evidence bag appeared, as he firmly got hold of the crab and bagged it.  The officer closest to him sealed the bag and wrote the evidence description for the forensic team that would handle it later. Crab right eye socket.  Doctor Lucas’s team was still on their way.  The rookie lost the remainder of his stomach.

The four looked at the poor soul, who would never live the humiliation down. They returned their analytical eyes towards the body.  Emma was the first to notice the movement.  “Oh shit!”  She yelled as she grabbed the doctor and started to run. Neither Neal nor Liam knew what was going on, but Neal had been with Emma long enough to know, if she runs, there was a bad reason for it, he followed. 

The officer that was recording the entire scene since the body landed on the pier leaned in with the camera to see what the fuss was about.  He could see some abdominal movement and thought it odd, then, boom.  Emma and Red ran as fast as they could.  Emma had no idea what the gas radius would be.  She just knew she did not want to be remotely close to it. They stopped when they hit the police line.  Emma turned back around and took a deep breath.

“Oh god!  Don’t move!” She yelled at all the officers.  Neal and Liam came to a halt a few yards from them. Neal had his shoulders up, clearly shivering with the thought of what just happened.

“Are we clear?”  He asked Emma with a grimace on his face.  Liam was swallowing his breakfast back, pale as a sheet.

“Turn around!”  Emma yelled at them.  They slowly turned, and she let out an eewe! Neal shrieked again.  “Great, just great.”  Red looked at Emma and then noticed the huge grin on her face. 

“You are viciously evil Detective.”  She whispered to the blonde.  Emma looked at the officer at the line. 

“Bet you thought you drew the shitty straw this morning officer Douglas when the assignments were handed out?”  He burst into laughter, his disgusted look gone.  “Yes, ma’am.”

Emma walked up to Liam and Neal where they still stood frozen.  She let out an hmm as she inspected them.  She patted Neal on the shoulder. 

“Better stay here until forensics pitch up. The CSI’s will need to bag and tag you both.”  She looked forward to the officers.  The one most in shock was the cameraman.  He looked as if he was unable to breathe. 

“Officer Gordon!”  She called.  The man had his eyes closed. There was no way he was going to answer her.  “Stand still I will send the forensic team to you first. It is going to be all right!” He nodded, feeling everything but all right.  She looked at the rookie.

“Jennings, try to vomit somewhere that will not contaminate the crime scene more!  That goes for all of you.  If you have to puke, please pick an open spot.”  In the direct vicinity of the body, there were not a lot of open spots.  It was a forensic nightmare, the gas in the body had built up during decomposition and now burst through the solar plexus. Leaving liquid human remains everywhere.  She turned back to Douglas. 

“Can I borrow your radio Officer?”  He handed it to her without question.  “Dispatch, this is 8 Fox 4620.”

“Go ahead, 4620.”

“We have a possible 311 at EDIC Pier.  How far out is the forensics team?”

“ETA two minutes Detective.”

“We are going to need more assistance and hazmat.”  There was silence for a moment.  “Dispatch did you copy?”

“Copy 4620.  What is the problem?”

“Bloated body erupted, I have Officers covered in body fluids, I will need a medical team ASAP to deal with any toxins.”

“Copy Detective, units are on their way. Over.”

“10 – 4” Emma sighed.  It was a mess. “Doc?”

Doctor Lucas tore her eyes away from the scene in front of her to look into the green eyes of the Detective.  She rarely saw Emma in the brightness of day without her designer sunglasses.  Her eyes were beautiful, like the rest of her.  Emma Swan was indeed the vision of perfection, anatomically speaking.  Red Lucas often wondered why the woman was still single.

“Four or five days!”  Red blurred out, and Emma frowned.

“Oh, the body. Yes.”  Her grave expression was back.  “With all this damage and time, will you be able to determine the cause of death?”  Red looked back at the pier. “Hard to tell detective.  Once I have her back, I will call you?”

Emma gave the scene another look. “Thanks, Doc.”  She said as she started to walk off.  “Hey Swan, what the hell?”  Her partner yelled at her. “Need to be in court Cassidy. Testifying in front of Judge Gold and as much as he likes me, I doubt he will appreciate me on the stand smelling like a decomposed body, I need to change before they call me.”  She continued to walk away.  “Sure you can handle it!”  She waved over her shoulder without looking at him.

Detective Swan felt better after a shower and fresh clothes.  When it was her turn to testify on the stand, she gave the Judge a small smile, which he returned.  It surprised most people that the stunning cop could get a smile out of the hard ass.  Detective Swan had the reputation of a cold bitch, and the Judge was known to be a heartless bastard, perhaps that was what they shared.  Some years ago, Emma would have agreed with every remark cast at Judge Gold.

********

She met Judge Gold under very different circumstances.  A young rebellious Emma appeared in a closed court before him to decide whether or not to try her as an adult.  She was seventeen.  Her Public Defense Attorney gave her no chance and did very little to help. It was superfluous with Judge Gold.  The nickname given to him by convicted criminals was The Crocodile. During his judgment, you did not see him coming, then he would pounce, locking his jaws onto you, dragging you into the dregs of muddled waters, as his harsh verdict was announced.  That was the way the timid, graying man walking with the assistance of a cane, was described to her while she was in holding, awaiting her prelim.  She thought the other inmates tried to scare her; there was no need, Emma was pissing herself as it was.  It was her third arrest, and they were pushing to prosecute her as an adult. She had a shitty past and from the looks of it an even shittier future.  The Judge stopped preceding in the middle of the prosecutor’s argument. 

“Let me get this straight?”  He said in a voice, clenched through his teeth.  “The accused, on all three occasions, stole food and money to feed her younger foster siblings because the care they resided in choose to utilize State money given to them for drugs?”  He questioned with a stiff grin and closed teeth.  “That would be correct Your Honor.”

“Then why is she in my court and not her foster parents?”  The prosecutor had no answer.  He turned to address her directly. 

“Miss Swan, did you know you were breaking the law?”  She swallowed.  “Yes, Sir.”  His eyes narrowed. 

“Then why did you break the law?”  Her eyes teared up. 

“None of us had eaten in four days. I was the oldest.  I promised to get them food, and I did.”  He looked at her.  She was young and scared, but defiant. 

“If I release you Miss Swan and you land up in the same circumstances, will you steal again?”  Her green eyes met his.  Yes, certainly defiant. “Yes Sir, I would.”  Her counsel did not even respond.  She just sat down.  In her mind the kid just buried herself. 

Judge Gold placed his palms together as his arms rested on his bench.  “I see.”  He turned to speak to his assistant.  The young man nodded and left the court.  He turned to Emma again.  “You Miss Swan are a waste of the Court and the States money.”  As he said the words, he could see the fire rise in the green eyes.  “I think it is time you return the favor to the State.”  She swallowed, but the intense stare at the imposing figure did not waver for a moment. “I am ready to pass judgment.”  The prosecutor looked to the defense counsel and both objected.  He waved them silent.  “Miss Swan, it is obvious that you have no respect for the Justice System nor have you the skill or capability to apply yourself to the State System. Therefore I will give you a choice.  I determine that you are of a sound mind to be tried under the law as an adult, seeing as you are so eager to play the role despite knowing the difference.  Your choice is, therefore, to stand trial and be judged by a jury on your actions or, you can accept my immediate punishment and save the State additional funds?”  Emma’s legs gave out, and she sat with a heavy heart.  Her counsel said something to her, but she never comprehended the words.  She merely looked at the Judge and nodded, avoiding the inevitable.  “I need you to speak up Miss Swan as a matter of Court record?”  She stood again.  “I will accept your punishment, Your Honor.”  Her voice was small in the empty court.

 Judge Gold nodded as if he approved of her decision.  “Very well.  Emma Swan, on the count of two charges of Misdemeanor petty theft I find you guilty and sentence you to two years of Military Service per charge on the account that this is not your first misdemeanor!  Your record will be sealed as you are still a minor, but understand me clear Miss Swan, any infringement of any kind during your time in the military will be added to your current charges.  Serve your time and learn to protect people in a disciplined manner, for the next time you land in my court, I will not be so lenient.”   He slammed his gravel and with the deafening sound Emma’s life ended.  The Prosecutor looked pleased. The Defense was shocked.  Before Emma knew what hit her, she was back in the holding cells. She spent one more night there before a Marine Officer came to get her and took her to Parris Island for boot camp.

She hated Judge Gold. She hated him with every fiber in her.  With every exercise, every officer yelling at her, her hatred towards the man increased.  After her six months of basic training, she got offered a chance to finish her high school diploma.  Not long after that she was shipped off to Afghanistan and did two tours.  Afghanistan was not her friend.  She lost a lot there, but she also got the opportunity to study.  At the end of her four years, she was a decorated officer with an honorable discharge; she had one year of study left to complete her degree in Criminal Psychology. She joined the Police Academy with two of her friends from her former unit. Neal and James. 

 Judge Gold received an invitation to her graduation and her surprise, he accepted.  It was a day that Neal would never forget.  Emma was beaming in a way he had never seen before.  When she made her way through the crowd with purpose, he grabbed hold of her. Neal swung her into his arms.  Her eyes sparkled, and as he held her, she kissed him.  His heart swelled in his chest; it was the only time in his life he wished that Emma was more than only a friend. “Let me go!”  She protested as she wiggled out of his arms and made her way to the older man in an impeccable suit leaning on a cane, aside from the crowd. “Judge Gold! You came.” Her eyes sparkled as she greeted the man.  Since he received the invitation, he had wondered why a stranger would invite him to her graduation, seeing as most students only received two tickets.  She knew him, but he had no recollection of her.

“I have to apologize Dearie, but I do not recall you?”  She smiled at him. 

“I will accept that as a compliment Sir.”  She held out her hand to him.  “Emma Swan.” 

“Your invitation said as much, you have never been in my court, so how do you know me, Miss Swan?” Emma inhaled.

“I have been in your court, almost five years ago.  You sealed my record before you did, you shipped me off to boot camp. Two counts of Misdemeanor petty theft, third arrest.  You told me I am wasting the States money and that I should repay it, hence boot camp.”  He gave a small chuckle.  He remembered now.

“Well, well Miss Swan, you are certainly not the angry teen I sentenced.”  She felt a wave of pride rush through her.

“Hence the invitation Your Honor.  I wanted to show you how I have changed and thank you.  At the time it felt like a sentence straight to hell, but for whatever reason, you gave me an opportunity, I wanted to show you I did not squander it, Sir.”  He nodded in acknowledgment.  “You changed my life, Sir, for the better and I felt the urge to share it with you.  I know that as a Judge you will see little if any appreciation for your work, never mind actual rehabilitation.”

“Well, I am glad that you turned your life around Miss Swan.  What are your plans now?”

“I joined the BPD Sir.  I still want to help people.”  She took a wrapped gift from the leather satchel she had slung over her shoulder and gave it to him.  “It is something small, to thank you.”  He tore the paper to look at the four photos in the frame. One of Emma receiving her Private insignia, the next in her Marine Blues, rank, Lance Corporal, her Purple Heart for combat pinned to her chest.  The next was Emma in her BPD Officer uniform and the photo she took the day before in her graduation toga.  “Thank you, Miss Swan.”

********

Detective Swan knew that the photo was still in his office to this day. Very few people in her life knew of her relationship with the Judge.  She did not see him often, but when she did, he always got that little smile she rarely gave anyone, any longer.   Her testimony went smooth.  The bastard was guilty, the evidence overwhelming and with Judge Gold residing, he was looking at a hefty sentence. 

Emma returned to the station on West Broadway in the afternoon.  As she walked into the office, greet her partner, she was met with a look and a fuck you!  She raised her eyebrow and then remembered the state she left him in.

“How long did you suffer there?” She asked amused. 

“Too long! You are a bitch monster, and there is a special hell for your kind Swan!” She sat on the corner of his desk. 

“Did everyone survive?” He shook his head. 

“The kid is in a bad state, Lt. wants to see you by the way.” She gave him a pat on his back and made her way to the Lieutenant’s office. 

The Lieutenant waved her in, but she stood by the door while he finished a call. “Swan.”  Why the hell did he always say my name with a sigh she wondered?  “Yes, Sir.” He did not invite her to sit.  All bad signs. “Heard you had an incident this morning.”

“Yes, Sir.”  He blew a puff of air through his nose. 

“And then you left the scene.”  He stated.

“I had court, Sir.”  He slammed his palm on the desk and stood up to tower over her.

Lieutenant Spencer was an imposing man for his age.  He was tall and still displayed broad shoulders. His number two cut, hiding his thinning hair, his gray eyes piercing through her. 

“That, Swan, is the problem.  You had court!  You were not even supposed to be at the scene!”  It was not the first time he yelled at her about the matter. He blew another sigh through his nose and sat down.  “How was court?”  It was a high profile case, drug smuggler that killed his partner.

“Judge Gold will bury him, Sir,” Emma answered, Spencer nodded. 

“The rookie from this morning is in a bad state.  I need you to go and see him and Gordon.” She turned her head slightly. 

“Are they ill, Sir?”  His eyes glared at her again. 

“No Swan, as disgusting as the scene was, they will not end up with an unpronounceable disease.  Their mental states are a different matter.” 

She frowned.  “Sir, I am not a shrink.”  Despite her degree, she often had to remind her Lieutenant of the fact.

“And yet, it was not a request.”  He stated flatly; she indicated her understanding.  “What about the Melissa May and Heather Cole cases?”  Her shoulders deflated a bit.

“They are still open cases Sir.” He looked at her.

“You close cases faster than any other detective.” 

“I normally have more forensic evidence to work with Sir.”

“Do you still think that the cases are related? Despite the forensic evidence you do have?”  She heard the irritation in his voice. She wanted to let out a deep sigh and tell him to go fuck himself.  “No Sir, until there are indications other than my gut, I am investigating the cases as separate, I work on them every day.”  He shook his head.  He knew both were bad; he also knew that he was lucky to have her on the case, most of his detectives were men. All of them had a hard time looking at the case file.

“Go and see those officers.”  He ended and picked up the phone again.  She took it as her dismissal and walked out of his office. 

 

Neal already left, still pissed at her.  There was a note on her desk that the autopsy of the floater was early the next morning.  She stretched her back as she sat down in her chair and opened her bottom drawer.  She took out the two files there and placed it in her all present satchel.  She would look at them again.  She knew they were related, even though, as Spencer pointed out to her, yet again, there were no forensic evidence or personal connections between the women.  The cases lay open on her desk for the last two months.  She grunted a goodbye to the few people that remained and got into her issued car.  It would be a slow drive to Boston Mass General in traffic.  On the trip, she thought about what she might say to the two officers.  The only reason why she ran was that she saw it before, in Afghanistan. She saw many things there. Truth be told, she saw a lot of things here.  Man’s inhumanity towards man… 

 

Her thoughts wandered back to the May and Cole cases. In all honesty, she could not depict which murder was worse.  Her mind was still dwindling on the woman when she parked her car and entered the hospital.  She asked for the rooms of the officers and made her way to Jennings first.  To say that the kid was in a state was an understatement.  She watched him through the open door for a while.  He was shivering under the blankets.

Emma came to sit by him on the only chair in the room.  He did not look at her, in fact, he buried his face deeper into his pillow. There was no use to ask the obvious questions.  The Detective laid a hand on his shoulder and started to talk.

“Your Training Officer told me that you want to quit.  Believe it or not, I wanted to do the same thing.  That is why I ran this morning.  I knew what was coming, I have seen it before. The moment that abdomen moved, I knew.  Last time I was on the receiving end of it, like you today.”  She paused, thinking back to that terrible day. The worst and most humiliating day of her life, or so she thought at the time.  “I was dehydrated, and despite that, I lost what little I had in my stomach, I dry heaved for ages.” She started to rub his back in slow circles as she continued in a soft voice.  “I was so scared.  I thought that I would die of some disease or the toxins from the shit that was on me.  I could not breathe, the smell was terrible.  I was the only one throwing up; my unit thought it hysterical.”  She wiped a single tear that crept into her eye. “It was a kid, about ten or so.  He was dead for about five days when we discovered him. He was bloated, and the next thing I knew, the buildup gas inside him erupted.  You see a lot of shit in war, but sometimes, god they creep into your mind and fester there.  That was why I wanted to quit.  The image and smell did not go away, even after I cleaned myself a few times.  All I wanted was to soak in a bath until I could not smell that boy any longer.” 

She kept quiet; the rookie dared to look at her.  “What happened?” He asked in a soft tone.  She returned his uncertain look with a sad one of her own. “We stumbled onto his village half a day’s walk away.  Everyone and everything slaughtered. We could smell it more than a click out. It was ten times worse.”  He turned his head into his pillow; she continued to rub his back.  “That was war, kid. This is Boston. Today would most likely be the worst day of your entire career because I can assure you, what happened to you today, happens to very few cops.”  She waited for him to look at her again.  He did, and he cried unashamedly.  Emma got up and shooed him over, she took him into her arms and let him cry.  She held him; there were no reassuring words or gentle cooing, Emma merely held him until he stopped.  He wiped his face.  “Sorry.” She smiled at him.

“No worry kid, wish I could do that.”  She held his face and wiped another tear with her thumb.  Everything about her actions and her presence was so unlike her and very much the opposite of what he heard of the stone cold detective. 

She looked at him, deep into his eyes.  “Officer Jennings, your T.O. says a lot of good things about you, including that you are an upstanding man.  We need cops like you.  I can tell you that today will be hard. The next few days might be hard, you will struggle to sleep, but kid, this job does not get worse than what you experienced today.”  He looked down. He did not want her to see his doubt and fear.  “I can’t eat.”

“I understand.  Try fresh vegetables. It will take a while.”  She lifted his chin.  “Promise me that you will come and talk to me before you make your decision?”  He nodded.  “Good.”  She gave him her card.  “Call anytime. No matter what hour, I don’t sleep a lot. For anything, if you need me to smuggle in a beer or your favorite biscuits, call me?” He returned her sad smile from before. 

“Thank you, Detective.” She patted his leg.

“And go to your counseling sessions.”  He frowned.  “Believe me, Jennings, they help.”

Her conversation with Gordon was similar. Telling her story, creating a bond, encourage him without sympathizing. Make him feel.  Tell him that he is a man.  He did handle the thing better.  However, he also had the same problems.  He could not get the smell out of his mind.  She took a jar out of her bag. 

“Here.” He looked at it suspiciously. She sighed.  “It’s not girly stuff!”  She opened the jar and took some of the content out and smeared it under his nose.  For the first time that day, he took a deep breath. Emma knew that by now the smell was more mental than real, but she understood. His nostrils filled with eucalyptus and other herbs.  She could see him calm down significantly. “Thank you.”

Emma gave him a half smile.  “Sure.”  She got up. “I had a look at the video you took.  It will make for good educational material, but more so, there was a very nervous, scaly character that you filmed more than once.  I think you got us a suspect.” It was a lie, but one that he needed to hear right now.  “So good work Gordon.”  He felt relief wash over him.  Praise from the Dark Swan was rare. 

“Now get some rest and here, call me if you need anything?”  He smiled.  He already felt better.  “Thank you, Detective.” She waved at him, “Sure, get better.”

When she finally got home, she took a beer and a half-eaten pizza out of the fridge.  She did not bother to warm up the food.  She sat on her couch, eating, relaxing for a moment in her modest but comfortable apartment.  She closed her eyes for a few minutes, thinking of her day. As shitty days go, this one did, not even rank in the top one hundred of the worst days.  Sure Jennings and Gordon would have it as their number one for a while, but the sad truth about life was that everyone’s worst day, eventually was replaced by another. It was inevitable.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for the positive response.   
> I do not have a beta; all mistakes are my own. If you find something that horribly wrong, please let me know?
> 
> Warning: Dead woman and a description of their injuries

**Chapter 2**

Melissa May’s worst day came six months before.  Emma did not need to look at her murder wall or the case file. By now, every photo, description, and word written in her record was committed to memory.  _Twenty-eight-year-old white female, blonde, green eyes, 5”44 feet, 171 pounds, lived and worked in Brooklyn New York.  She was a paralegal for a small firm.  No relatives.   She was last seen exiting JFK International Airport. Her abduction was in New York, and six days later her body was found, naked, mutilated and dumped on display in an alleyway over a dustbin in Boston. Open, vulnerable, shamed and unrecognizable._

 _They got an ID from her fingerprints.  She had Zolpidem in her system, a sedative.  She was fed during her six-day capture and was able to move and use a toilet, despite being chained by her right ankle.  Her face was cut up with a six-inch blade, spear point blade, antemortem.  Cause of death, strangulation. Killed by a right-handed person_. 

 

Four days later the body of Heather Cole was discovered under similar circumstances.  When the ID photos of the two women were placed together on the murder board, the hair in Emma’s neck stood up.  She shook the chill off that clenched her heart for a moment.  The Detective frowned profusely at the color photos of the women, while still alive.  It was eerie.  First, she did not want to believe it, but the more she worked on the Cole case, the more sure she became, that the two victims, were killed by the same person.  The facts, however, told a different story. 

 

 _Heather Cole was a thirty-four-year-old, white female.  Dark brown eyes and dark brown-black hair, her hair was cut shorter by her assailant, she was 5”4 feet, 164 pounds.  Heather lived and worked in Washington, DC.  She was a linguist for the FBI, being fluent in French, Spanish, Afrikaans, and Swahili. The FBI also had a case open on her.  She was last seen exiting the Hoover Building where she worked.  Her husband an Agent with the FBI as well. Heather’s family was well connected with various politicians on Capitol Hill_. 

 

The two women could not have been more different in life.  They had no connection.  They had never met, they surely did not move in the same social circles, neither did they have the same socioeconomic background.  Their digital footprint had zero overlap.  They lived two hundred and thirty miles apart, with no commonality.  Moreover, both women were found dead, naked, washed and dumped in Boston.

 

Cole four hundred and forty miles from the abduction site and May, two hundred and sixteen miles. Heather’s facial lacerations were more severe. A curved blade, perhaps a Nessmuk, was used.  He stabbed her a few times.  Genitalia mutilation incurred during her capture, she had been missing for six days but disappeared two days after Melissa’s abduction. Cause of death, exsanguination.  She did not eat. The autopsy revealed severe dermatitis around the Gluteus Maximus. She was immobilized during her capture, scarring on both her wrists and ankles.    Her murderer was left-handed.

 

The pure physical evidence separated these two victims to the degree that no one would ever look at them as a multiple murder by the same assailant. Why did she?  Emma argued with everyone, her partner, the M.E. the FBI and finally, her Lieutenant ordered her to deal with the cases separately.  Everyone looked into the differences between the women; she looked at the similarities in their deaths.  How often does it happen that two women are killed within a week of each other, abducted from another state, tortured? Then washed and dumped in an alley on a dustbin, the other displayed over a dumpster behind an apartment building, with their faces mutilated beyond anything?  That was never the reason, however, why Emma had cold chills and sleepless nights.  It was Heather Cole’s eyes.  They were not hazel or brown or whiskey. They were smoldering dark pools of melted chocolate.

 

 _Fuck_!  She shook her head.  _Getting poetic over a dead woman’s eyes. Not cool Swan_.  However, it remained the sole reason why she was still looking.  The connection was not in their lives. She prayed to any god that would listen, that her theory was wrong.  These two women were killed, not because of who they were; they got killed for how they looked.  It took her only three days to place the other similarities together.  With each discovery, she felt the nervous tension increase.  She was a good cop, but the deeper she delved into the case, the more worried she became, the more Emma hoped she was wrong.

 

She became apprehensive enough to buy a burner cell and make a call.  A husky voice answered.  She felt relief. Then ended the call without talking.  She got rid of the phone in the same instance.  _Fucked up_!  At least she knew that much.  Emma was also aware that if she took her evidence to Spencer that not only would he take her off the case, most likely he would suspend her, subject to a psych evaluation. That was the last thing she needed on her already colorful record.  She was known as a cop who did not always played by the rules, as for her numerous reprimands of subordination, hell, Emma was grateful to still have her shield.  She knew why.  She knew that Spencer mostly prayed for her to transfer to Head Quarters in Homicide, hopefully, in another city, she understood, however, that his numbers of resolved cases with convictions looked good due to her and her partner’s work, but somedays she pushed his limits.

********

Neal… The one man that she could always count on to make her smile.  Through his solemn, scruffy appearance, his smile would light up the laugh marks around his eyes, the deeply carved dimples next to his mouth, every morning as soon as he saw her.  Why he put up with her, she never figured, but he was her oldest and mostly only friend.  She was seventeen. He was twenty when they met.  She took to the laid-back character far more natural than anyone before.  It was not trust, no, the trust only came years later.  There was an overwhelming something about Neal Cassidy that calmed her.  The right person at the right time in her life. Neal held that confidence to this day.  They understood each other as few people did.  The moment he met Emma’s eyes, he knew… They had already seen too much for a young woman.  Neal became her trusted brother in the Marine Unit she was assigned to before being shipped off to Afghanistan.

***********

Emma respected Spencer enough to try and look at the cases separately. She did that mostly to appease herself.  It could all be an incredulous coincidence. Something that merely she would categorically pick up. Maybe her longing for a certain brunette distracted her. Emma missed the other woman; therefore, perhaps the Detective saw something that was never there.  Emma fashioned other theories. Her education and experience, however, always brought her back to the way of disposal.  It was the unidentified suspect’s signature.

 

However, the bodies were washed. With that, all critical evidence that they would typically depend on.  The bodies were moved, then displayed.  Her thought process started.  _Smart enough to move the bodies and clean them, but then he dumps them within blocks of each other in my district.  Why?  Did he know I would look at Heather Cole and see what no one else could_? She stopped herself and turned back to her training. The most logical process. 

 _He hates woman, tortures them so that they can share his pain. He takes their identities, their beauty.  However, he leaves their eyes.  Why?  He shows remorse in the way he cleans them, leaves them face up. Alternatively, was that measured forensic countermeasure?  Then he tosses them away as trash.  No_.  She started mulling all over again with a new theory.

 

 _They meant nothing to him they were mere surrogates for his real obsession. He mutilated their faces in order to force one to look into their eyes. What was his end game? Organized killers, they always had a deranged purpose in their killing. Displaying trades of sexual sadism via the mutilation.  Sadists were the worst. What was his message?  Did he mutilate them because he has a scarred face? Did pretty girls tease him? Then there was the left hand, right-hand combination. Was it perseverance, one killer?  Or worst case scenario, a skilled killer training an apprentice?_   Emma shook her head.  _Why the fuck am I profiling him?_   She scrutinized the facts once more.

 _He most likely abducted both, Melissa from the Airport and Heather from her workplace.  Abductions during daytime were risky; it would indicate that he had a good ruse. He would come across as non-threatening.  Was he using a broken arm or leg ruse similar to Ted Bundy?  An FBI agent felt safe enough with him for this killer to abduct her, how_? 

 

Melissa lost her parents in a car crash when she was sixteen. She was poor, worked her way through high school and college, to get something behind her name to find a better job.  She had street smarts. Melissa worked at a topless bar for some time.  The tips were better than ordinary bars.  She was beautiful when she was younger.  According to her former employer, she could handle herself pretty well when drunk, rowdy men became grabby.

 

Two completely different women, both smart and informed enough that they would not place themselves into any situation that they could not control, so how did this fuck get to them? They were both bound.  Melissa by her right ankle, she could move for some reason, she could eat and use the toilet.  Heather, on the other hand, was immobilized.  Left to sit in her soiled clothes, not fed and far more traumatized.  The autopsy indicated that the lacerations on her face, as well as the genitalia mutilation, was antemortem.  The stab wounds to her abdomen were what caused her to bleed out.  The lacerations on Melissa’s face were hesitant, almost as if he did not want to hurt her, but then he strangled her.  _Was it in a fit of rage? Anger retaliation, because she did not fulfill his fantasy? Did she play along up until that point?  What was his fantasy_? There was no sexual assault.

 

It was late on a Tuesday evening.  She has been playing this game with her suspect for six months now. _You wanted my attention. You dumped both bodies in my District.  You knew I would see Heather Cole’s eyes. You wanted me to look at them, to see you_!  She jumped up.  _Fuck, you killed before_.  A chill engulfed Emma’s heart as the realization struck her.

********

Detective Swan knew damn well that their IT Analyst, Belle French, was decent and that she ran the search between the two women.  Belle was the one that could not find any similarities between them, any connection.  However, the relationship was never their lives. Emma was sure of it now.  In her mind, the association was in their deaths. No one looked because no one wanted a serial killer. Serial killers, killed random victims, people that had no connection, other than in the killer’s fantasy.  She hurried over to the station on her bike despite the cold weather setting in. 

 

It was after midnight. There were the usual activities at the station, but one floor up it was dead quiet.  Emma switched on her computer.  She had a list of every search Belle French did for them.  She went into one of the National databases and started her search based on her theory of the murders.  Emma continued to search for similar cases between Boston and Washington DC.  Then she found them, victims who died in similar circumstances, matching the hair color and eye combinations. Her killer’s MO and signature all over it. 

 

The hardcore, emotionally voided Detective cried when she found four more women. She cried silently at her desk while reading each case file she had access to at that moment. She emailed the Detectives in charge, noting that she had a similar case and wanted to compare notes, requesting a full copy of the murdered women’s investigation and autopsy sent to her.

 

She sat in the quiet, stillness of the open plan office and read through the information.  She did not realize the time until her computer made a noise.  The first .pdf in her inbox was what she requested.  The autopsy report and color crime scene photos.  Constance Grace twenty-eight.  She had the same eyes, deep brown.  Half an hour later the Kimberly Downs file was sent, she was twenty-two.  Emma played with the numbers until she had her answer and by the time Neal walked in. Told her she looked like shit. She had already run the other two victims through the same tests.  _Am I grasping at straws_?  Emma questioned herself.

 

Mandy Wait was seventeen years old, and Catherine Sterling was twenty-three.  She had a pattern.  She had explanations. Except for Mandy and Catherine, who was abducted and killed soon after, their bodies washed and dumped in parks, but also on display.  Mandy’s killing was clumsy. A poorly planned and executed kill.  He got some of the other factors correct, that only Emma could know about, but the wounds were hesitant, shallow, a small knife used.  Cause of death, strangulation. Right-handed killer.   Catherine was butchered.  He used a much more substantial knife almost overkill. Emma, however, thought that Mandy’s killing was too slow, so with Catherine, he used a bigger knife.  Her genitals bruised as if the killer kicked her there several times.  He was left-handed.  It was his first kills and the profile done on both, would be accurate for a first kill, a young man, angry, not knowing what he was doing. 

 

So the detective had an organized killer.  His Method of Operation was to lure, abduct and hold two women at the same time, at lease with an overlap of four days. It was a high risk.  One abduction was risky, he took two, except for his first kill.  He was comfortable in his surroundings.  This killer was sure no one would hear the women scream.  There were no indications that their mouths were closed or that he used gags on them.  His M.O improved between his first two victims and the next two. He honed his skills, his selection, the subsequent two murders were far more organized. The killer had a cool off period of fourteen months.  He was patient.  His victims were carefully selected. This man would only be caught if he wanted to be.

His signature, the mutilation. He wanted to hear them scream and beg.  It fed into his sadistic fantasy.  It gave him power. His treatment of the brunettes was that of anger retaliation. Prolonging their suffering, disgracing them more.  The blondes were taken care off.  Up to a point.  _What pushed him to kill them_? Emma gave the matter some thought.  _They did not comply with his fantasy, so he kills them and takes his anger out on the brunette_. It made sense, well it did to her.

*******

The date of Mandy Wait’s death was something that caught her eye. 21 June 2014.  There was something about the date, but it took her almost four months to realize the significance of it.  James. The date. _Fuck, how did I miss it_?  Mandy Wait was killed on James’ anniversary.  That was the trigger.  _Jesus_!  So she had her first real lead and her first actual suspect. There was, however, an immense problem regarding her suspect...

**********

Emma took all the files home with her and meticulously pasted a timeline together, of all the victims.  Her mind was in chaos, after drinking too much to kill the thoughts running through her mind, she fell asleep on the only couch in her lounge.  She woke up the next morning, stiff and hungover.  She looked at the task she did in an angry, emotional, drunken state. _Oh, fuck_!  She started crying.  Looking at the six women in life and death.  There was no mistake.  She knew what he was doing. She knew why he was dumping bodies in her backyard now.  He practiced, now he wanted to show her, his masterpiece in the making.  And it was in the making.  She had no doubt.  More woman would die. 

 

Emma shook her head. One dreadful similarity between all the cases, however, virtually no forensic evidence linking any of the facts.  She could have a hundred women on her wall, without a scrap of physical proof, all she had was women that died in similar ways, nothing more.

 

Emma made the same call as before.  The same number that she knew by heart. She heard the husky voice. It took all of Emma’s control not to say something. Then the words came.  “Did you call to hear my voice or to find out if I am all right?”  Emma clung to the phone and cried.  The other woman could hear a soft sob. “I am all right.”  Emma nodded as if the woman would see that she accepted the answer. Then killed the call and smashed the SIM and battery.  It felt similar to her first night in prison.  Emma was cold, frighten and so lost, emotionally drained and physically burned out.  She was fifteen.  That was her worst day until her meeting with Judge Gold, at that time she would have sworn she had enough shit and ruthless days to last anyone a lifetime.  _How fucking wrong could I be_?

 

The truth was that the woman on the other side of the call and Neal were perhaps the only good things in her life. Both of them hurt her.  Neal, Emma forgave, the woman, not so much.  Identical to any other hurt in her life, she buried it so deep that not even Neal could ask her questions about it afterwards.  He would watch helplessly as another change took place in his friend’s demeanor, another wall going up.  He would see people trying to get close to Emma, and in the beginning, she would let them off half gently, but then came a time when the wrong person pushed too hard,  Emma shut down from that day on.  Neal dealt with the situation.  Except for him and only him, her cold black heart would warm up, but even with her oldest friend, there was a reservation now and then. 

 

New people were not let in, and Emma condemned herself over and over, that by now she should have learned.  People hurt people.  People were by nature depraved, devious and greedy.  People killed each other every day because of, war, racism, money, power, greed, and land. In her cynicism, she believed that one day, the wrong person would die, and hopefully, the world will fall apart and come to a cataclysmic end.  She would be at peace that day. She knew it was morbid, but there were days that she wished all suffering would end.

For now, she had her anger, her distrust, and cynicism, it served her well in her world.  She had Neal that would take her to a ball game or a football match.  Normal things, that normal people do.  It was only with him, however.  She would watch a movie, lay on his shoulder and she would fall asleep.  He was the last person that held her trust in and any goodness in humanity.   She loved him for it.

**********

Tonight he decided to watch her. From the shadows, he knew so well. His interest far beyond her caseload.  Her two open cases were his special present to her.  He knew the moment she saw the blonde corpse that she would know.  He picked this beautiful woman exclusively for her.  He had to show her that she was not good enough, that none of them would ever be good enough.

 

Tonight was not the first time he came to look at her, admire her, watch how she worked.  He could not help himself. He knew she took his work home.  It gave him a sense of accomplishment. The Detective already found his other attempts.  After his first kill, the screaming, fighting whore, who reminded him so much of the rebellious young Emma, left him numb.  Then that snobbish Georgetown cunt.  She screamed even more.  It made him smile at the time. After he killed her, he knew, he had to do more to impress the Detective.  He went to see her.  He was happy to see her withdrawn, unattached, unobtainable. The new black look and dark make up suited her.  He watched Emma for days. Then left to put into practice what he learned. He expanded his knowledge about the different weapons he used, he learned patience, read the books that were on Emma’s shelves.  He studied the faults of other killers. Also, he did more research on his victims, which was surprisingly trouble-free with social media and the vanity of his brunette victims.  They were only there for the play; they meant nothing to him.  It was the blonde. In time, Emma would see it too.  All this was for Emma.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning. Crime scene. Description of a murdered woman and her autopsy. Little graphic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support, kudos and comments.  
> I do not have a beta. All spelling and grammar mistakes is me.  
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

 

Emma was halfway through her morning run when she received the call.  Dumped body near the scrap metal yard, a few blocks from the precinct.  She turned around and headed back to the car.  While she drove to the scene, an uneasiness settled in her gut.  Almost apprehensive as if she knew what she was going to find.  Emma pulled into the restricted area. She could already see the activity around the scene.  She got out of her car, her running gear still on, she opened the boot of the car to get her gun and badge out of the small safe she installed there for that reason.  As she walked to the scene, she could sense the men’s eyes on her.  She had long tight running leggings on with a black tank top, enhancing her build that no one ever saw.  The Detective’s muscles and curves were open for everyone to look at.  It made her uncomfortable, extremely so, she pushed through the cordoned off area to the body with determination. 

 

Her partner approached with a smile.  “If you say one thing, Cassidy, I will castrate you!”  His smile vanished.  She looked at the naked woman as she pulled her gloves on. 

“I know what you are thinking Swan, stop thinking that.”  She ignored his comment.  She knew she was right.  It was the same guy as Melissa May and Heather Cole. Emma was convinced, the similarities could not be a coincidence.  She turned to the Officer in charge of the camera today.  “Get me a few shots of the crowd as well please?”  He nodded.  “You got it, Detective.”

 

Emma circled the body, taking the scene in from all angles.  The killer posed the body over a heap of scrap, the victim’s naked form bent over it. _Bending over backwards for him, being disposable, trash, meaning nothing_?  Except that all these women did mean something to him.  The uneasy feeling settled in her heart once more.  She was missing something, something distinct.  The May and Cole dumps were similar.  Posed, placed on exhibition for the sole purpose to instantly shock the onlooker. One victim in an alleyway over a rubbish bin the other laid out over a dumpster. During the investigation of the older cases, the women were all dumped, displayed in an exhibitionism manner in parks.  Emma looked at the wounds on the woman’s face. It left her unrecognizable.   _Taking away their identities, their dignity by leaving them naked._ She noticed that this victim was stabbed, not cut _. His anger is escalating_.  She could see from the bruising on her legs that there was a possible sexual assault. _That was new.  He is getting frustrated_.  She saw a cut on the woman’s discolored lips.  _He beat her. How long was she with him_?  _Why did he keep them?  It increased the risk.  He was sure that no one would find him, so a remote location_.

 

Her thought process was interrupted by Doctor Lucas.  “Hello, Emma.”  She looked up at the doctor with her soft controlled voice.  The doctor gave her a once over.  A few years back, Emma would not only have found it flattering, but the attention would also be welcome.  “Morning Doc.”  She said as she pulled her gloves off. 

“Not staying for my assessment?”  Emma shook her head.  The doctor would not be able to tell her more than what her own eyes could see. 

“Can you please take her fingerprints, I need an ID ASAP. There are indications of sexual assault trauma. Let me know if you find semen and when the autopsy is?”  Doctor Lucas nodded.  Emma’s behavior was strange.  She was one of the few detectives that never second guess her initial findings, she always showed respect to the young doctor, and now she was leaving.  Red frowned. 

 

“Where are you going, Swan?” Neal caught up with her. 

“Home, shower, change of clothes.”  She took out her cell phone from the armband strap; she used for running.  “Belle?  I need a missing person’s report. Female between the ages of thirty-two and forty, from Boston to Washington DC, and surrounding counties, high-income bracket only.  Only women with dark hair and eyes that went missing in the past six days. I need it as soon as I get to the station? Thanks.”  Neal shook his head. 

“Boss is going to chew your ass if you go down that road.” 

“I can handle the Lt.” She answered before she drove off.  Neal shook his head.  There was either something she was not telling him, or something else was eating at her, even for Emma with her temperamental attitude, her behavior was extraordinary.

 

Emma was showered and back at the office within half an hour all clad in black as per usual. “Detective Swan!”  Emma looked at the little auburn haired geek, whose voice stopped her.  Belle French was something else.  A bit shy and withdrawn, except when she had a few to drink, which did not happen often, the girl was a genius with a computer.  “Miss French.”  Emma greeted her, the formality of it made Belle blush. 

“I have your missing person’s report, only five women in the last six days matching your description.”  Emma pointed to the office that was Belle’s domain.  When they entered, the woman typed a few keys on the keyboard of her PC, and the faces of five women appeared on the big screen. 

“That one.”  Emma pointed to the fourth woman.

“Julia Pierce.  She went missing six days ago.  Her husband reported it.” Belle informed her.  Emma looked intensely into the brown eyes of the DMV ID photo.  “Where?”

“Trenton, New Jersey,” Belle answered.

“Belle, you are a superstar!  Who is the Detective in charge of her case?”  Belle smiled even though Emma has always been courteous to her. She rarely paid her a compliment. “I will send the information to your phone Detective.” She got a half smile from Emma.  “Thank you, Belle, please put a BOLO out on her?” Belle frowned at the request but complied.  As Emma returned to her desk to make the call to Jersey, the team from the crime scene returned.  She held up on the call. “Officer Mendez, can I see your footage?” 

“Sure, Ma’am.”  She clenched her teeth at the ma’am but forced a smile.  She took the SD card from him and copied it to her hard drive.  Then handed him back the card.  “Thank you.”

 

She started watching the crime scene footage. The body, the injuries, the placement.  Mendez did a good job.  Then came the footage of the surroundings, the crowd. Emma slowed the footage down to watch the bystanders.  There was nothing and no one that stood out.  She replayed it on fast forward this time.  Her eyes still not catching anything.  She opened up two other video files, the Melissa May and Heather Cole cases.  She played all three videos simultaneously.  Emma watched, her green eyes flicking between the movements.  She has long since stopped looking at the bodies.  Emma knew the details of the May and Cole case inside out.  She had waited eight months for this new evidence.  _The bastard was patient_. She watched the three scenes in slow rewind.  Nothing.  She opened four more video files of the other crime scenes and did the same with all seven, other than the bodies. There were no similarities.  She had watched six of these videos enough to know that there was nothing.  The added footage did not reveal anything she did not already know.  She sat back in her chair, running her fingers through her hair _.  Maybe I am digging for something that was not there? Everyone told me as much_.  She could not rid herself of the tangled, cultivated theory that all seven cases were related.  Her Lieutenant only knew of two, and well this new one.  She has been working the case.  Perhaps not in the direction he wanted, but from the moment Heather Cole’s body was found at the dumpster, she was sure that the May and Cole cases were related.  Of course, after the M.E report landed on her desk and the obvious was stated, she looked at the facts separately, that was until out of desperation she reran a search.  The search that revealed the other four murders, in Emma’s mind, she was looking for a brutal, sadistically, serial killer.  She did not have the facts or the forensic evidence to back up any of her theories.  So she waited for another kill. This morning she got her selfish wish.

 

“Cassidy, do we have an ID yet?”  He looked at her in his usual casual way; his tie already loose around his collar.  Some days she wondered if anything could upset her partner. “Yeah, was about to inform you. Cherise Middleton.  She went missing eight days ago from Portsmouth, New Hampshire.  She was a flight attendant.  When she did not show up for a scheduled flight, she was reported missing.” 

Neal gave his partner a photo of the woman.  She was beautiful.  Tall, long golden blonde hair, misty green eyes.  Emma stared at the picture for what seemed like ages. 

“Thank you, Neal.” He gave her one of his boyish grins. 

“Doc says she will start the autopsy at four.  If you are good, I will take you.”  She looked up at him her one brow raised.  “You disappeared from the crime scene.  You did not even stay for the preliminary report.”  She rubbed her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry, can you make me a copy of her file?”  He turned his head.  He knew what that meant.  She was taking the case home.  “Sure.”  He walked away in his usual manner, and she picked up the phone to call the NJPD.

 

“Detective Sargent Sullen.”  The deep no-nonsense voice answered. 

“Good day Detective Sargent Sullen, my name is Emma Swan with the BPD.” 

“What can I do for you Officer Swan?”  Emma breathed deep. His manner was short.  “Detective Swan.”  She could hear him roll his eyes.  She carried on.  “I am calling in connection with a missing person’s report that was filed with you, Julia Pierce.  She went missing six days ago.”

“Have you found her?”  Sullen interrupted. 

“No Detective Sargent.”  He sighed.  “Then why the hell am I talking to you?”  Emma felt her temper rising, and she swallowed her anger, she needed this asshole’s help.

“I have a theory, and if my theory is correct, your missing woman will show up a corpse in Boston within four days.”  The comment got his attention.  Julia Pierce was married to an upstanding doctor with family connections to the Mayor’s office.  Everyone was breathing down his neck to find her.  “How can I help?”

“As I said, Detective….”

“Please call me Leroy, and yes, you have a theory, I hope to fuck that you are wrong!”  _So do I_ , Emma thought to herself.  “Do you have footage of her abduction or did you retrace her steps before she went missing?”

“We are tracing her steps.  I have CCTV, ATM and City cameras.  What are you looking for?” Emma felt the tension in her shoulders getting worse. 

“Is there a way for me to see the footage?”  This time he grunted. 

“Look, Emma, I have all my guys working on this since it happened.  She is a high profile citizen. I have the Mayor shitting bricks on me and my Lieutenant riding my ass.  We have been over the footage several times.  There is nothing.”  He took a breath. She could hear the strain in his rough voice.  “I do not need some cop from Boston telling me shitty things that might happen because she has a theory.”  She looked out the window, without seeing anything. 

 

“Leroy, if I am right, she is here in Boston.  I have a BOLO out on her.  I have been after this guy for months now.  I might see something.”  She refused to beg, but at this point, she was not beyond it.  “Fine.”  He almost yelled at her.  “The file is too big to send via email.  Can we set up a Skype link?”  Emma felt the relief washing over her. 

“Yes, I will set it up right now.  Speak to you in a bit.”  She hung up on him and made her way over to Belle.

 

“Need a big favor, Miss French?”  The pale geeky girl smiled at her.  Everyone knew the Dark Swan’s reputation and her abilities, if helping her, solved a case, anyone would go out of their way to assist her.

“What can I do for you, Detective?”  Emma came to sit next to her in the only other chair in the office. 

“Can you please set up a con call with the NJPD in Trenton, Detective Sargent Leroy Sullen?”

 

Within minutes, Emma was looking at footage of the missing brunette.  She asked them to put everything up at once.  Her eyes so use to scanning through video files.  Also, the same as before Belle was playing it in fast forward, Emma’s eyes fixed on the screen.  “There stop!”  She yelled and pointed to one of the City cameras.  “Back it up, Belle.” The analyst played it back slowly.  “Stop.”  Emma looked at it. She could experience some excitement in her otherwise tense body.  “Now bring up the footage Mendez took this morning, about twenty-four minutes into play.”  Belle did. “Slowly forward?” Belle played it at half speed.  “There, stop.  Can you zoom in on the car, there?”  Emma pointed out a car.  She sat back. 

 

“Leroy, are you seeing what I am seeing?”  The gruff Detective’s voice came through clear.  “Sure do Emma.  Do you have a better shot of the car?”  She knew she did not.  “Not on this, but now that we know what we are looking for, Miss French can find it for us on Boston City cameras.”  Leroy sighed with relief.  He had something.  Julia Pierce got into a light green metallic Camry. The same Camry was in the background footage of Emma’s crime scene.  The fucking psycho was watching the body being discovered.

 

“Leroy, can you track that car from your side? Toll gates and any other footage you can get?  Can Miss French coordinate with you?  Belle can you please look for that car, from this morning, track it back to Portsmouth.”  Emma’s mind was racing.

“Portsmouth, what the hell is in Portsmouth?” Leroy asked. Emma let out a sigh. 

“That is where my victim got abducted from eight days ago.”  She could hear Leroy swearing, worse than her on the other side. 

“Your guy travels.”  He stated.  “Still hope to god that you are wrong Emma, but I will track the Camry from here.  I will let you know if I find anything.”

“Thank you, Leroy.”  The call went dead and all that remained where the two images on the big screen with the Camry, Julia Pierce’s profile clear, sitting in the back of the car.  _What made you get into that car_? 

 

“Belle, can you check with Leroy what Julia’s last call was?”  The reddish head turned to Emma.  “What are you thinking Detective?”  Emma’s eyes never left the screen. 

“I think that she called a cab or a car service.  Can you add that to the list of Cherise Middleton’s search as well?”  Belle looked at her uncertainly for a moment.  “Detective?”  She asked the moment Emma got up.

“Yes, Belle?” She looked into worried blue eyes. 

“Is this sanctioned?”  Emma frowned.  She rarely let things as insignificant as that stand in her way. 

“Of course, not Miss French.  Do you think Spencer will let me chase after my gut and a missing woman from Jersey, while there is a body on the slab?”  Belle shook her head but continued to ask. 

“Then why do you do it?”  The reason behind the detective’s motives became extremely important to the IT Analyst. 

“Because Cherise Middleton is dead and Julia Pierce is still alive.”  That was good enough reason for Belle.  “I will need an obscene amount of caffeine.”

“A girl after my own heart.  I will see what I can do for you, Miss French.”  Belle blushed at the remark but got started with her task.

**********

Doctor Lucas watched Emma and Neal as they entered her autopsy room.  As calm as Neal was, as anxious was Emma.  It was not unusual.  She thought it the reason why they made such a good pair.  He was the yan to her ying.  She knew that they had known each other for a long time and often wondered about their personal lives.  She watched Neal on occasion.  The man loved his blonde partner, it was clear to anyone with eyes, except for Emma.  She treated him the same as one would a big brother and nothing more.  There were rumors, of course, about Emma, but Red was sure she was straight, she had to be. Otherwise, her gaydar would be singing.  She never got a vibe off Emma.  Perhaps she was as cold as people said, her attitude this morning would most certainly confirm it.  Red shook the thoughts from her mind, as she started her recording with the mundane introductions.

 

The light on Cherise’s face brought the agonizing truth of her suffering to the surface. Doctor Lucas combed her hair out into a tray for forensic analysis later.  Emma did not expect them to find anything.  “Was she washed?”  Emma asked the doctor.  Red looked up.  “Yes, I know where you are going, I can tell you now, it is not the same as Melissa May.”  Doctor Lucas performed that autopsy as well. 

“What are the differences?”  She turned to Emma her blue eyes taking on a dark gleam in them.  “If you attended this morning’s initial findings, you would already know the answer to that!  If my scientific work is not evidence enough for your Spidey senses, then I suggest you get out of my autopsy room.”  Her finger was pointing to the double sliding door.  Emma met her gaze.  “My apologies, Doctor Lucas, please continue?”

 

“The body has been washed. The victim endured repeated rape over the course of four days.  The four-day capture being consistent with the aberrations on her ankle and the contusions on her face.”

“Bruising?”  Emma asked. 

“Yes, she was beaten before he stabbed her in the face.  Please take note, Detective Swan; she was stabbed in the face, not cut.”  Emma conceded. The M.E was clearly pissed off at her.  “The aberrations prospective were caused by constraints. Nevertheless, due to shaft marks and friction, I have been unable to determine what kind of marks they are or what kind of constraints caused them.  There is no fiber in the wounds.”

 

 _Because he cleans them before he dumps them_.  Emma thought as the M.E continued.  “She has scraped marks on her knuckles.  She might have fought back, or she scraped them.  There is no severe trauma to her hands. She has more severe aberrations on her right ankle, likely from being chained.  I have sent her blood work for toxicology. I will have it back in a day or so. There is light bruising on her scapula and humerus on both sides as well as her Gluteus Maximus and coccyx, indicating that she most likely sat for long periods during these four days.  Minor contusions on her upper arms.” 

 

 _Was he pulling her up by the arms? Why_? Emma questioned silently.  “She has contusions on the inside of both vastus intermedius muscles, and massive trauma to her genitalia and virginal tract, consistent with sexual assault and there is scarring that suggests necrophilia. Some of the contusions are already discoloring, indicating the assault to have taken place for the duration of her capture. We did a rape kit, and the swabs have been sent to the lab as well if they find something we will compare it in CODIS.”  Emma kept quiet.  Red knew that her wrap over the knuckles was not severe enough to prevent the blonde detective from asking questions, but unlike other cases, Emma was not peppering her with her usual, impatient, time of death, the cause of death, questions.  She was waiting, for the doctor to get to the stab wounds.  She was sure Emma already knew the cause of death.

 

“The facial lacerations, are deep, the width of the knife is two and a half inches, consistent with a Bowie or Combat knife.  The knife has a circumventricular blade six to seven inches.  She has two deep lacerations to the buccinator muscles. It cuts into the malar bone, which had already formed scabs, indicating that these wounds occur two to three days before the body expired. In addition to the two cuts, there are eight stab wounds to the face, including the mandible, supraorbital ridge, next to the orbit, the nose and the cause of death, a stab to the larynx, grazing the carotid artery. Further investigation will indicate if she bled out or if it was respiratory impairment.”  Red looked away.  She was not immune to death.  She could not think of anything worse than to drown in your blood.  “All my findings will be in the report.”  It was her way of dismissing them.

 

She was ready to continue with the actual autopsy.  Emma lingered for a while. “Detective?”  The calm voice washed over her troubled mind.  “Right-handed?”  Red said yes and watched Emma clutching her fist.  “Thank you, Doctor, and I apologize for this morning.”  She started to walk off. 

“What exactly did happen this morning?"   Emma turned to her with a look that asked the doctor if she needed to explain it.  “Emma, you are hunting a ghost.” Emma shook her head in acknowledgment.  _If she only knew how true that statement was_.  Red could see how depressed the admission made her. “I’m sorry Emma,” Emma smirked. 

“Not your fault Doc, science does not lie, right?”  Red shook her head. 

“No, it does not.”  Emma waved and left the oppressive room _. Science does not lie!  Then why do I have seven dead women?_

 

Neal stopped to pick up coffee on their way back to the station.  When he returned with her and Belle’s orders, he gave her the tray and pulled off.  “Are you going to tell me?”  She was looking out the window, leaning on her arm.  “Tell you what?”  Her voice sounded tired.  “What’s going on in that pretty, but screwed up head of yours?”  She snorted.

“Neal, right now you have plausible deniability, keep it that way.”  He looked over at her, the deep frown on his forehead indicating his worry. 

“You still think it is the same guy?”  Emma looked over at him. 

“Neal, as I indicated, the less you know, the better.”  He decided that today would be the day to push. 

“Emma, you have been taking files home, you have been working your angle for how long now, four, five months?  What proof do you have?”  She sighed and closed her eyes.  She had more than what he knew.  Her theory was far less of an argument and more realistic than what she would ever lead anyone to believe. The dots were connecting. She only needed something, any actual evidence to compare the cases.  Seven of them now.  If she was right, it would be eight by the end of the week.  God, she hoped she was wrong her heart yearned for it, but since Heather Cole’s murder, her gut has not stopped twitching.

 

She thanked Neal for the ride as they walked into the station together.  He knew she was going to work late.  “Can I help?  I am still your partner.”  She turned back to him and placed one of her slender, soft hands on his cheek rubbing at the soft stubble there. 

“You have helped enough for today. You got me an ID.  I am following up on something, and then I will go home.  All right?”  His brown eyes looked her over.

“Promise?”  His little frown and the boyish grin was back. 

“Promise, night Neal.”  He walked off with an okay.  Emma headed to the IT office.  She placed a large double Americano on Belle’s desk. 

“Got anything for me yet Genius?”  Belle smiled at the compliment, took the coffee and opened the cap to inhale the rich aroma of the drink.

“Hmm, this is good, where did you buy it?”  Emma gave a short laugh.

“Now, Miss French if I want to continue to bribe you, I cannot reveal my secret, now can I?”  It made Belle laugh as well.  Despite the anxiety that was rolling off in waves from the bad-tempered detective, she has been kind to Belle, most of the time. 

“I did find your car though.”  Emma sat down.  “Really, so quick?”  Belle placed a pair of glasses on her face that complimented her overall look. 

“Yes, I picked it up through the tolls, but this guy is smart.  He had a cap on and night time driving glasses.  He also looks away from the camera every time.”  Emma dissected the new information.  Her mind working with what she knew of this predator. 

 

 _Highly Organized killer, with anger retaliation and aspects of personal cause homicide, now combined with sexual sadistic homicide and necrophilia.  Using a BTK method. Bind, torture, kill. Two victims at a time, the brunette enduring more suffering.  The guy was smart, meticulous and patient_.  She was the only one that would see the personal causation aspect.  If all his victims were street girls, as the first victim, Mandy, she might have considered that Peter Sutcliffe shit, that god told him to kill working girls. Killers stuck to types when it came to their fantasies.  This killer deviated from the norm, killing blondes and brunettes. He showed consistency in other matters. The eye color of the women. His brutal, humiliating display. Emma, however, found a far more personal explanation for his cause. That was the thing that scared her shitless.  She knew sooner or later she needed to bounce her theory off someone if only to confirm that she was not insane.  She dreaded that call. Every time Emma thought about the conversation that would take place, her stomach flipped, her breathing increase. It was the last phone call she ever wanted to make. 

 

“So you got a plate for me?”  Belle gave her a look of insult. 

“I am better at my job than that Detective.  I have a plate, and a general description of the guy.”  Emma looked at her with big eyes.  “You have his face?” Sadly Belle shook her head. 

“No, yes.  I have him at a side profile.  I can give you height and build.  That’s it.  It is as if he knows where every camera is.  He has the cap and glasses on, but here look?”  Belle pulled the photo up on the big monitor. Emma got her first look at the man that has been on her mind and occupying her time for eight months now.  She shuddered.  The fucking monster looked so normal.  Ball cap, glasses, standing with his hand in his pocket next to the green Camry. Normal, typical of any other visitor at the airport.  “He picked her up from the Portsmouth Airport?”

“Yes,” Belle confirmed.  “I passed all the information down to Detective Leroy. He reported much the same with the tolls between here and Trenton.  By the first toll, Mrs Pierce is not in the car, the same as Miss Middleton.”  Emma knew why.  He drugged them.  She was sure that the tox report would come back with something foreign in Cherise Middleton’s blood.  That was another inconsistency, the drug used in every case was different. Zolpidem, Lunesta, Silenor, Benzodiazepines, Trazodone, they were prescription sleeping tablets, but not hard to find. Other common over the counter sleeping tablets were also used.  As well as other medication, including antihistamine that would cause drowsiness in large doses.  _The fuck head sure knew how to cover his tracks_. 

 

“And the plate?”  Belle looked at her as if she was utterly disappointed.  The work that Detective Swan gave her today was far more exciting than her regular job. 

“It is a rental, from Philadelphia.  It was returned to the rental company in Providence. Detective Leroy got a warrant to get the car to Trenton to go over it.  He has a subpoena for all video and licensed copies of the driver, both in Philly and Providence.  I will let you know as soon as we have copies.”

Emma could not move her gaze from the suspect.  “No Miss French, go home, you have done more than enough for one day.  Good work Belle.”  It earned her a smile, but Emma left before she could see it.  It still made Belle excited.

 

Emma did go home as she promised, but after taking a beer from the fridge and opening it, she took a gulp, walking to her lounge wall.  The wall covered by an enormous map of the entire east coast.   There were a few pins on locations; she would be adding to that later.  Emma placed the sheet on the small table in the open lounge.  Underneath the map was her murder board.  It was much larger than the one in her office and more complete.  She placed the photo of Julia Pierce under her blonde counterpart, Cherise Middleton.  Eight women in total.  Under the identification photos of the women were their crime scene photos.  The way the killer posed the bodies.  Notes on the facial lacerations, kind of knife used. The drug he dosed them with, their ages.  She had copies of their full investigation reports and autopsies. She pulled a chair up and looked at her wall.  She looked at Heather Cole specifically. It was her case that started off this whole mad obsession.  She found the dockets of Kimberly Downs and Constance Grace more than four months after Mellissa and Heather were dead. 

*********

Two murders, miles apart, no connection to her victims or each other.  However, then there were the similarities, which was how she found them.  He killed them within four days of each other.  Kimberly’s body was discovered first, dumped over a fallen tree in the Montgomery Lorimer Park.  She was working at a fast food place to pay the rent and the few classes she could afford, at the nearby University.  She was trying to better her life.  She was only twenty-two. The police discovered Constance’s four days later.  Curator at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, married to an A.D.A with a bright future.  Twenty-eight. _Two Philadelphia connections. I must look at that_. 

 

The Grace family was friends with the Governor of Pennsylvania.  The two women had nothing in common, except the way their bodies were dumped and the mutilation of their faces.  Constance was discovered in Fairmount Park, displayed open and naked over a heap of ground close to the Boxer trail.  Their murders were cold cases; they had been dead a year and four months by the time Mellissa and Heather were killed.  Emma looked deeper and discovered Mandy Wait and Catherine Sterling.  They were murdered fourteen months before Constance and Kimberly.  Their body dumps were similar.  Mandy was a seventeen-year-old runaway who turned to prostitution to finish her GED. She was found in Rock Greek Park, Bethesda, naked, face unrecognizable.  Catherine was discovered a day later in Meridian Hill Park, she was a twenty-three-year-old psychology student at Georgetown University, and her father was a junior senator.  Old money family.

 

Emma felt her body tense as she looked into the young twenty-three-year-old student’s eyes.  She closed her own eyes, continuing to drink her beer.  _This case was going to be such a shit storm_ , Emma thought to herself.  She needed to make that call.  God, she has been putting that call off for the last four years.  She drank the rest of her beer. Got up to get another.  She had additional information that Belle could look into the next day.  She knew she had to be careful.  With all the high profile murders, she was going to have every Governor and Mayor from Washington DC to Portland on her ass, not to speak of the FBI, Police commissioners and D.A’s.  Everyone would want a stab at this if it meant advancing their careers.  She had to keep that shit storm away for as long as she could. She needed to find this guy and fast. 

***********

He smiled as he watched the Detective’s silhouette moving in her small apartment.  He saw her this morning.  There was a moment when his eyes locked on hers where he stood by the car as she unwrapped his present.  She was upset.  He was glad.  This one was gorgeous.  Her body was long and slender; she kept it in shape for her job.   She was so easy to get to, easy to talk to, and oh god when he filled her up, and she screamed with cries of pleasure he knew she was good for him.  However, then the stupid bitch had to ruin everything!  She was so close, so close.  Her hands were shaking as she tried to do what he asked, then she let the knife drop and his disappointment set off in a rage.  He made her pay for her deceit.  The first thing he felt in his hands was the hunting knife.  He stabbed her. He stabbed her in her beautiful face.  He was making sure that he and only he would ever look at her.  He would give her another chance since she was so close, but then the stupid bitch died.  He realized yet again that she was not good enough.  His anger turned to the cause of his of his disappointment the dark-haired woman, and he reveled in her screams and begging well into the night.  Her cries heightened his excitement, and afterwards, he could not help but take the blonde again and again.  He filled her up and possessed her as no man has ever possessed her.  He felt the power; he knew why this had to happen now, again. Subsequently, he picked her up and went to another room where he cleaned her meticulously.  He took care of her. That was all he ever wanted, to take care of her, to be her one and only.  She needed to make a simple choice.  Now it was too late; he gave her to the Detective.

 

The Detective left soon after her arrival. He knew why.  At least, she did not see the women any longer, she saw him, his gift, his work, his commitment. He inhaled a deep breath.  Soon, this will be over.  She knows him now.  He will watch her, she will come to him, and when she does, he would be ready to show her everything.  The devotion he always had for her, Emma Swan. He quietly left her street with a smile on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma looks for her killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support.  
> Note: I have never made use of the Uber car service. I am certain that the company provides an essential, good service and that the checks on their driver are thorough.

**Chapter 4**

Emma did not sleep well. She entered the station at around six.  It did not surprise the detective to see the lights on in the IT office.  She brought Belle a coffee.  “Anything new?”  She kept her voice low in the empty station.  “Morning Detective.”

“Morning Belle.” She gave Belle the coffee.  “Did you sleep?”  Belle stretched herself out against the chair. 

“A little, thanks for this.”  She smelled the coffee again before she started to drink it.  The little ritual amused the detective.  She also did not seem to be too surprised to see Emma in so early. 

“I thought about something last night. I have been running searches since I came in.”  Emma sipped her coffee and only gave Belle an hmm.  She had heard good things about the shy analyst, this being the first time they were working together.  She wanted to see what the girl could do. 

 

“I figured that Mrs Pierce might have used him before.  She did.  She came back from a charity ball in Atlantic City.  Our guy drove her there and back. I have footage, but it is still not clear.  This got me thinking, how does he pick them?  Mrs Pierce first called him when she missed a flight from New York to Baltimore.  I checked other airports.  So far I have him with three different cars.”  She smiled impressed with her findings.  Emma said nothing, she merely drank her coffee and took out her notebook that she used the night before.  She handed it to Belle. There in her unreadable scribble, she wrote: _Hunting ground?  Ask Belle to check all the airports_.

Belle felt a flush of pride run through her.  “Well done Belle.  Have you spoken to Leroy this morning?”  She shook her head.  “All right, and tell me when you need a refill?”  The auburn head nodded, Emma made her way out of the office to her desk.  The M.E’s report was laying there waiting for her.  She flipped through the pages and the numerous sketches.  She studied all the injuries.  _Did she anger you or are you prolonging the experience?_   She had been missing for eight days, yet she was fed and hydrated.  Her last meal consisting of fresh fruit and vegetables, same as Melissa.  He treated Heather differently.  As he did with Constance.  They were both held for at least four days. They were not fed, the M.E. found Irritant dermatitis on both women, caused due to sitting in soiled clothes for too long.  Emma hated this animal.

********

 _Mandy and Catharine were killed within a day of their abduction.  The wounds on Mandy were hesitant.  A small knife was used. Perhaps a pocket knife, sheepfoot, straight bade about four inches long.  He would have been covered in blood.  Messy, unprepared and whatever fantasy he was living in, apparently not fulfilled. What had set him off, what was his trigger? The date, there was something about the date Mandy was abducted and killed. He planned better, executed better when he killed Kimberly and Constance.  Between Constance and Melissa, he changed dumping grounds.  Why?  Was it to get her attention?  Did he practice enough to move to a more daring way of disposing of the bodies?_   Emma pulled herself from her mulling and read the rest of the report. 

 

 _The women were older.  Cherise was thirty-two and Julia thirty-eight.  Perhaps his fantasy with her lasted longer?  Did she play along? Will Julia play alongside?_   It was one aspect of the cases she did not comprehend yet.  What was the brunette’s role? She let her mind drift too deep chocolate eyes so similar to Julia’s.  She shook her head literally to get the image out of her vision. With the thought came only pain.  She let her head rest back.  Her eyes closed. She thought back to her worst day.  _Was it her worst day_?  Alternatively, was it the day mere months before she became a detective?  Both occurrences were terrible, definitely her top two of the shittiest days ever.  It happened in 2012.  She leaned forward. She did not want to think of what happened or what happened a year later.  She placed her focus back on Doctor Lucas’s report.

 

The wounds on her face were stab wounds.  _Why stab someone with a circular edge blade_?  The cause of death, respiratory impairment.  Her lungs were filled with her own blood.  Emma felt that it might have been an accident.  He was not ready to kill her yet.  She died within two hours of eating.  He might have stabbed her in the throat in his angered frenzy.  If that were the case, then his sadistic need would not be complete. Julia will suffer more and longer than the others.  She had to find her.  She was dealing with too many questions, too many if's and why’s.  He picked Boston.  _What was in Boston? Not what, where_?  She grabbed her jacket and her sunglasses.  She was about to piss on several other authorities.

********

Emma walked into the pub on East Broadway, the same way she walked in anywhere like she owed the place.  She did not bother to hide her gun or her badge, as she sat down at the bar. She ordered a pint. 

“Little early Lass?”  She heard a voice behind her. She did not move.  Will Scarlet, she would know his voice anywhere. 

“Depends, Will, it might be late for me.”  He came to sit next to her. 

“Does it come naturally to you to piss off people or do you practice?”  She smirked while she continued to drink her beer. 

“Can I buy you a drink, Will?”  He looked at her and gave her a warm smile.

“I own the place, Emma.”  She let out a breath.  

“Fine, I need information?”  Will kept his eyes on her, she was stunning, and he would swear that she became more beautiful with age.  Except for her eyes.  Her eyes have changed a lot since she first walked into his bar as a rookie beat cop.  Her attitude certainly did not change. 

 

“Now why would I help a BPD Detective when this is not even your turf?  Sure, Mitchell will shit a brick if he knew you were here?”  She rolled her eyes and drank the rest of her beer. Trooper Mitchell from the MSP. 

“Only if he can get his nose out of his Lieutenants ass long enough to spot me.”  Will gave her a full smile and a chuckle.  Such a typical dry Emma comment.

“Fine, what do you need Detective?”  She took a few photos from her jacket pocket.  She spread them in front of Will. 

“Does he look familiar to you?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Swan?  This ass looks like any other person.”  She nodded.  “What about someone that is near the dock or have a boat that virtually never uses it, but did in the last two weeks?  Most likely he would be covered in blood.”  Will raised a brow.  When he spoke to her again, his accent was full, an indication of his irritation.

“Sure Swan, I know the guy, he's from New York, brings his son on a fishing trip every year.  They gut fish together dripping with blood.  What happened to you?  Did you eat fucking stupid this morning or is it old age?”  She took no offense to his sarcasm or his remarks. Emma gave him a look, asking, “What about Logan?”

“Oh yeah!”  He replied.  “We all gut fish there all the time.” Emma let out a sigh.

“Him,” she pointed to the photo’s “He is six two, medium build, driver, changes his car a lot.”  Will took the photograph. 

“What did he do?”  She looked at him for a moment.  Her eyes reflected a similar affection as with Neal. Soft, comfortable.  “Kidnapped a woman.”  She was met with a profound frown. 

“Thought you are investigating that murder of the flight attendant?”  If it surprised her that he knew what her current investigation was, she did not show it. 

“I am, this might be related.  I need this guy. I need to find that woman alive if possible.”  He took a breath.  “I will ask around. I promise nothing.”  She leaned in and kissed his cheek.  “All I ask.”  Emma got up.  “Oh Will, one more thing…” 

 

Emma made her way out of the bar. Before she disappeared, she greeted him. “See you around asshole.”

“Yeah, whatever psycho bitch!”  Will mumbled to her. 

“Oh, and Will, say hello to your father for me?”  He smiled at her then looked back at the photo.  He will ask around.

 

Emma walked a few blocks.  _Did he think I was stupid_?  She asked herself, the Detective knew where she was, and knew the moment she set foot in her issued car the Trooper would pull her over.  Emma took a cab.  As she got in, she turned to look at the State Trooper. _Fuck him_!  She will send someone to pick up the car.  She leaned back against the seat.  _How much can you think about one subject before your brain blew up_?  She had a premonition that the shitty of the day would only get worse.

 

Her thoughts were confirmed when she walked back to her desk, greeted her partner and heard the Lieutenant yell her name.  “Swaaan!”  Neal looked at her. 

“What did you do?”

“What I always do, stir shit.”  She smiled at him.  It did not make him ease his mind.  She walked off to the Lieutenant’s office and knocked.  He waved her in. She hardly had the door closed when he continued. 

“Why the fuck did the Mayor of Trenton momentarily call me to ask about his missing woman?”  Emma’s cell started to ring.  She killed the call.  It began to ring almost immediately.  “For fuck sakes, answer it!”  Spencer yelled.  It was Leroy.

 “Detective Sargent Sullen?”  She could hear the rumble in his chest. 

“Are you in the shit?” The gruff voice asked.  She smiled for the benefit of her Lieutenant.  “Yes, I am Sir, may I put you on speaker phone?  I am currently with my Lieutenant.”  He laughed.  She was pleasant, and since they started to talk to each other about the case she has been a direct, hardworking cop, no frills, he appreciated that. 

“Sure, let me kiss some ass on your behalf.” She wanted to snort. Emma was sure kissing ass was as difficult for Leroy as it was for her. 

“Thank you, Sargent.”  She took the cell away from her ear and placed the call on the speaker. 

“Lieutenant, this is Detective Sargent Sullen, the lead investigator into the disappearance of Mrs Pierce.  I am currently cooperating with the BPD on the case.  Detective Swan through meticulous investigation found the vehicle that Mrs. Piece was last seen in. She gave us the heads up and other than that she has no involvement in my case.”  Leroy came up for air, Emma wondered how many times he had to say something so derogatory.  His voice was monotone, practiced, supposedly reciting a poem he hated.  She found it hard to keep her laughter to herself.  “If there was any misunderstanding towards your detective’s involvement. I want to assure you; she has no involvement.”  Spencer looked at Emma in a way that indicated he would rather strangle her than take the Sargent’s word.  He replied in a contained voice.  “Thank you for the feedback as well as the update Sargent.”  He killed the call on Emma’s phone.

 

“So Detective, now you can tell me what your involvement in this missing person’s case is, and I want the truth Swan!”  His words and manner did not leave any room for deceit. “Yes, Sir.”  She stated and continued to tell him the story.  “I have asked Miss French for assistance in the Middleton case.  A light green metallic Camry was picked up at the crime scene footage Officer Mendez took.  The same Camry picked up the flight attendant from the Airport.  Miss French tracked it from Boston to Trenton, and in the footage, I spotted Mrs Pierce and informed Detective Sargent Sullen.  The car was a rental and was returned to the agency in Providence.  Since the car was at my crime scene, I asked the Sargent to keep me informed of any developments.  Currently, Trenton PD has the car in forensics, and they are looking for any clues to Miss Middleton and Mrs Pierce, in the interest of Department cooperation, I put a BOLO out on Mrs Pierce.”  She reported the information as fast as she could, hoping that he would miss specific details that she could not explain.

 

Spencer sat back in his chair.  “So you are investigating the Middleton murder?” She suppressed an urge to roll her eyes.  “Yes Sir, her roommate is on her way from Portsmouth to have an interview with us and to identify the body.”  Spencer frowned. “Where is her next of kin?” 

 

Emma’s heart clenched.  She tried to keep her breath even. It was knowledge that only she caught.   “Miss Sheldon is her next of kin.  They started flying together. After a few years, they moved in together. They are what is referred to as flying buddies, meaning they have the same schedules.  Miss Middleton swapped a short flight with another attendant that is the only reason why Miss Middleton was at the Airport and alone.”  Spencer looked at her. After the case came to his attention, he was sure that Swan would go off her rocker, trying to tie this case to her open cases.  He was relieved to find it not to be the situation.  “What about the driver?”  Emma checked her notes. 

“We have a side profile.  The suspect appears to be a long distance Uber driver.  Neal is handling the subpoena to look at their records.”  He looked at her, still suspicious. _Swan playing by the book?  It was too good to be true_.

“Do you have an APB on the driver?”  Emma swallowed.  “No Sir, all images we have of him is in the distance, he avoids cameras. We only have a general description of his build; I cannot even give you hair color.  He constantly wears a ball cap.”

 

Spencer thought for a moment.  “Do you need help?”  Emma kept her face neutral. 

“No Sir, Neal is following up on several matters, and Miss French has been outstanding.  I hope that Miss Sheldon would be able to give us a description of the driver.”  Spencer frowned.  “You think he picked her up before.  That he was stalking her?” She felt her hands starting to sweat. 

“It is one of the possibilities we are looking at.  The victim might have met the suspect on a flight or a bar; I will have more when I speak to the roommate.”  She could see him relax a bit.

“What were you doing at the docks this morning?”  Emma clenched her jaw. 

 _Did everyone in this city keep track of her_?  “I went to speak to Will Scarlet, Sir.” She saw a twitch in Spencer’s cheek. “Talk or drink?” _Fuck it_! 

“I had one beer, Sir, you know as well as I that they will not talk to us, I had a beer and took a cab back to the station.”  The Lieutenant wiped his brow. 

“You still have not answered my question Detective.” She nodded.

“I showed him the photos and asked him if he has been aware of any suspicious activity around the dock or Logan.”  The statement was flat. 

“Do you think there is an Irish mob connection?”  _Ugh_!  She thought, her irritation with her superior was increasing by the second, that and the fact that he and Will knew what she has been doing today.  “No Sir.  They dislike unlawful criminal activity on their turf as much as we do. I asked Miss French to look for the un-sub at Logan.  She found him driving a white golf a few weeks back.  He rented the Camry two days before Miss Middleton’s disappearance in Philly.” Spencer looked at her pensively.

“Good work Swan.”  He looked down at his paperwork almost immediately.  _Choked on that one did you, Sir_?  She wondered, suppressing a smile.

“Keep me up to date and get the uniforms involved?”  He asked without looking up.  She took it as her dismissal.  “Will do Sir.”

 

Emma felt relieved.  She told him the truth of her investigation, without revealing what more she was investigating and had already found. She made her way to Belle’s office when Neal joined her. 

“You still have your badge I see, and there was not too much yelling, so I take it went well, even though you were in there for ages?” He bumped her on the shoulder with his.  His brown eyes were full of mischief, his ever-present smile.  She hated it when he smiled in that fashion.  “What did you bet at this time?”  He faked being insulted, then the deep curves around his mouth appeared through the stubble beard that he insisted on keeping.

“Never you mind, I won, again, thanks.”  She gave him a small smile. 

“In that case, you can do me two favors?” He only looked at her amused.  “My car is at the dock, Scarlet’s bar and Belle needs more good coffee.” He looked at her, then pointed to himself. 

“You want me to pick up coffee and your car?  Are you mistaking me for a rookie?”  Emma sighed.  “No Detective Cassidy, but I would appreciate it if you could delegate and arrange that for me?  Ask Jennings; he is infatuated. He will do anything for me.” Neal raised an eyebrow. 

“So this is where your deep dark inner bitch comes from, for a moment there you sounded identical to Detective Mil…”  He realized what he was saying as Emma’s features changed from playful to fuming. He turned abruptly, yelling over his shoulder, “Getting your car.” 

 

Emma had to take a few breaths before she could compose herself.  She heard the same thing from a veteran cop a few weeks back.  She nearly ripped his head off.  In her presence, no one ever dared to insult the Detective that taught her everything about being a cop.  _So what if she had become as eloquent and emotionally voided as the Evil Queen?  There were not many admirable footsteps to follow in within the homicide departments in Boston_.  She tried to fill the shoes of someone she respected, before her mentor showed her the ropes, her manners and vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities.  Emma smiled at the thought of her training officer using the word the first time.  Profanity. The twenty-two-year-old rookie was not even sure what the word exactly meant when she was told not to use such obscenities in her mentor’s presence.  Truth be told, she did not realize she was using profanity at all!  She had to look up the word. She giggled when she did found the meaning.  She was not even aware of saying things as that any longer.  It was part of her regular conversation.  However, after the fact was pointed out to her, she tried to steer clear.  She failed miserably, to this day.

 

Neal’s comment shook her up.  She tried to push the memories and emotions back where they belonged.  Locked up.  Once she felt the self-assurance return, she walked into Belle’s office.  Her suspect was on the screen. 

“Any update?”  The blonde asked. 

“Any coffee?”  The brunette quipped back and then as if she remembered whom she was talking to, her breath caught.  Emma chuckled. 

“Yes Belle I am the Black Bitch, but I can handle barter and a joke.  Your coffee has been ordered.” 

Belle relaxed, even though her light blue eyes were still significantly large. Emma filled her in on her conversation with Spencer, in order for the analyst to keep to the story the Detective told the Lieutenant. “Thank you, Detective.” Emma smiled.

“Belle, when the shit hits the fan, there will be no need for you to worry.  I will take full responsibility, so what do you have for me?” Belle smiled. 

“I have a name.  He is registered with Uber.  His name is Donald Harvey from Cincinnati.”  Belle beamed until she saw Emma raked her hands through her hair, get up and banged the chair hard enough for it to slide to the other side of the room accompanied by a loud _Fuck_!  Belle’s smile disappeared, it was her first experience with the bad-tempered side of the detective.  She was shaking slightly after the outburst, Emma seemed to be in the process of calming herself.  Belle spoke again.  “I am running the name…”

“Don’t bother Miss French, its fake.  I am sorry for losing my temper and scaring you.”  Belle only looked on as the detective left her office.  _What made her think it was fake_?

*********

Emma called the on-duty Officers to attention.  Her murder board only held the photo of Cherise Middleton.  “Who is doing legwork for other Detectives?”  There were mumbles among the staff, a few left. They all knew Detective Swan’s policies. If you worked with her, you worked your ass off.  She would ride you, ask you questions and expected you to be professional at all time.  When an Officer worked on her case, you only worked on her case.

She ran her eyes over the men and women.  She noticed Jennings. She gave him a crude nod.  Emma continued in her calm, assertive voice.  Her mission was to find Julia, to find the woman alive, but to the Officers, she explained everything she could of Cherise Middleton’s abduction and murder.  She placed the photos of the suspect, together with the images of the Camry on the board. Emma sketched the victimology for them.

“Miss Middleton was an educated, self-aware, capable woman.  Her job was to deal with difficult people. She would not have placed herself in a situation she could not handle.” Emma then gave the Officers a far more complete profile than was evident from the little information she had of the Middleton murder. 

 

“This killer comes across as non-threatening. He looks normal; he blends in.  He changes his look to adapt to his situation, as well as his car.  With Miss Middleton, he displayed characteristics of anger excitation.  He is a sexual sadist.  He derives pleasure from his torture of the victim.  The sexually assaulted the victim.  To add to her humiliation, he committed necrophilia.  He took her identity by cutting and stabbing her.”  Emma took a breath.  “This suspect is playing out a fantasy. The torture and the fantasy are far more important to him than the actual killing.  To emphasize his disgust at the victim for not fore filing his fantasy, he continues to humiliate her, even in death.  Leaving her naked, vulnerable, cast away in the trash as if she meant nothing.” Emma reared in her emotion. Her voice started to crack. 

 

“Not only does this shit fit in, but he also seems harmless.  He held the victim for four to five days.  Patrol areas that are secluded?  He is confident in his comfort not to be discovered.  He takes his time.  Look for the Camry, nevertheless keep in mind that he might have changed vehicles by now.”  She stopped.  “Any questions?”  There were a few questions.  As much as every officer hated her, none of them ever skimped on their tasks for her.  They all knew, working with the Dark Swan meant experience, exposure and a learning curve from the best.  Anyone with aspirations to become a detective, always volunteered to work with her, as painful as what it could be on occasion.

 

Neal arrived back, Emma was nowhere to be found.  He walked to Belle’s office and gave her the coffee.  She told him about the incident. Her eyes teared up.  “Oh come Belle.  She did not yell at you; she is only frustrated at another dead end.”  He patted her lightly on the shoulder.  “But how does she know it is fake, my search is not even halfway.”  Neal’s frown appeared. 

“I thought she told you to stop the search.” Belle sat down.  She thought she was only doing her job.  “I have one of the best computers in the department, I can find him.  She cannot know that it is fake.” Neal looked uncomfortable for a moment. 

“Unfortunately, she can.  Google Donald Harvey, Cincinnati?”  She did, as the search results appeared, her breath caught.  The bullet words Angel of Death, Serial Killer, Cincinnati, and thirty-seven victims hit her first.  She read one article and then closed the page.  “Oh.”  Was her only response. 

“Yeah, besides guns and knives, the only other hobby our Dark Swan practice is to read books about serial killers.”  Belle looked at him with horror on her face.  “That is a bit morbid.”  Neal gave her a smile that showed his dimples.  “Please don’t tell her that?”  It made Belle giggle. He felt better. 

“If that is her hobby, who is her role model?”  Neal looked at her in shock, then realized, it was a joke. “Oh, if you love yourself, don’t ever, ever ask that question.  I made a mistake of telling Emma, that she sounds similar to her role model this morning.  I barely survived.” Belle looked at him with a questioning frown. 

“It’s Hitler’s little sister. We use to call her the Evil Queen.”  Belle laughed at the description.  She shook her head and thanked Neal for the coffee before she continued with her work.  She will find something for the dark mood detective before she goes home today.

 

Neal found Emma at the back of the station.  She was smoking, a habit she had quit while they were in the Marines. 

“What the fuck?” He asked as he approached her with his swagger, his arms open.  _Great_ , she thought.  All she needed was a lecture. For the last half an hour she had been occupied with the information Belle provided. _Donald Harvey?  Why him_?  Thankfully, her phone rang at that moment.  She smiled when she saw the number, there was no name to go with it only an icon of the Guy Fawkes mask. 

“Hey?”  Emma answered, trying to turn her face away from Neal’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey yourself.”  The voice was soothing to Emma’s mood; it was low and warm. 

“No need to ask you about your day, scuttlebutt has it that you were called into the office?”  Emma let out a deep sigh. 

“Seems everyone in this city knows what I am doing, except for me?”  The voice answered in a friendly manner. 

“Oh, how dramatic?  Are you free tonight?  I thought you could use a meal and some sleep.  My sources tell me you look like shit.”  Emma raked her hand through the windblown mane. “Really?”  There was a chuckle. 

“You want to come over?”  Emma smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, that would be nice, thank you.  What can I bring with?”  There was a moment of silence before the voice asked hopefully.

“A change of clothes for tomorrow?”  Emma smiled, then shyly looked at her boots as she stumped the cigarette butt out. 

“I would like that.”  She could hear the relief from the other woman. 

“Great, I will cook and pick you up some beer, see you around seven?”  Emma confirmed before she said her goodbye.  Neal looked at her, the smoking forgotten, his arms folded over his chest.  “What?”  She asked.

 

“What? Seriously, Emma, you asked what?”  She rolled her eyes; she did not want this conversation with him.  She started to walk away. 

“I know that look! That fucking, shit eating smile, who is she?” Emma continued to walk away.  “That is why they call it a personal life Cassidy; it’s personal!”  He caught up with her, pulling her back by her arm.

“Oh no, you don’t.  It is one thing, to keep your serial killer investigation from me, it is entirely another thing to keep your love life from me.” She looked at him coyly.  “Love life, really?” He knew her too well to let the matter go. “Yes!” He expressed.  “Come on Emma; you smiled, you are smitten with this girl.”

“Woman.”  She corrected him.

“Okay, so you are smitten with this woman. What is her name, how long have you been dating?”  She turned to him. “Dating, are you fucked in the head Cassidy?  We have sex, mutually consensual sex.  That’s it.”  He passed her. Blocking her way before she could walk into their open office. 

“You never smile that way if you have a casual sex date.  It is more than sex, so what is her name?”  Emma gave up; she knew if she did not supply Neal with all the detail, he would follow her tonight or as a true Detective, dig until he had an answer. 

“Gillian.”  His mouth fell open. He whispered back, confused, concerned but mostly befuddled.  “Gillian, as in Gillian?  A.D.A Gillian Marsh?” Neal’s voice almost broke.  Emma nodded. Neal lost all color in his face. “Are you fucking insane?”  He rubbed both his hands over his face as he turned in place, looking up. “Emma, god, when are you going to let it go?”  Her eyes were disappointed when she answered him.

“Gillian is my type, what can I say?”  Emma shrugged her shoulders and left him to his pondering. 

*******

She did think about his words and his reaction.  Hers was much the same when she met the A.D.A for the first time. She was mature, well-spoken, well-educated and she had a warm smile that reached all the way to her deep brown eyes.  She changed her hair color now and then, as well as the length, but when Emma met her, she had shoulder length dark brown, almost black hair. Of course three years ago Emma’s pain was too raw and the similarities too much.  She and the A.D.A got off on the wrong foot.  With time and to her relieve, Emma learned that the woman was great fun, far less dramatic than her ex.  She also had no ambition, well, not quite, she had no goal to become a D.A and move to another city.  She was happy where she was, in time she and Emma formed a bond then one-night, work spilled over to pleasure. Gillian was a pleasure.  Neal was right. It was not the sex.  Other than liking the A.D.A, Emma enjoyed her company, even if it was only a few nights during the month.  Gillian made her forget, Gillian made her laugh.  For now, that was enough.

********

Emma knocked on the open door to Belle’s office.  She had a large coffee in her hand with a _Sorry_ written on it.  Belle turned when she heard the soft knock.  Her eyes met with the detective.  “Thank you.”  She pointed to the chair as an indication for Emma to sit.  “Unless you are still offended by the chair.”  Emma burst into laughter.  It was rare; a sound Belle had never heard before.  It was clear, carefree.  Neal heard it too. He rushed over. “Ah ha!  Told you, it's love!” He was thankful; he was starting to think that he would never hear that sound again.  He looked into Emma’s green eyes.  There it was, a slight beam there.  Neal felt his heart beat a little faster.  Whatever the A.D.A was doing to or for Emma, he was happy.  She was apparently making his friend happy. That was all he ever wanted for her.

 

“No, as I recall, that word never came from your lips.  In fact, you asked me if I was insane.” He kissed her.  “It’s not only women that can change their minds in a flash, but men can also do it.” He got a light slap in his stomach for his efforts.  Belle was watching them as if a reality show was playing off before her.  She could not wait to call Red.  The two became friends when they were in cop conversation; the doctor said something that made Belle laugh.  None of the other people did. It was a geek joke; they hit it off straight away. Red was always asking things about Emma.

 

Emma shook her head as she came to sit next to Belle. Belle continued to look at her with curiosity. “Shift is changing, are you going home tonight, Miss French?”  Belle ignored her question.

“So you are in love Detective?”  Emma gave her a do-I-need-to-answer-that look.  Belle smiled at her and looked at the stunning detective as if she has only seen her for the first time.  “You can tell me if you and Detective Neal took it to the next level?”  Belle whispered, and Emma’s mouth fell open. 

“What?  Neal, no, I love Neal, but not that way.”  Belle looked disappointed. 

“So who is it? Do I know him?”  Emma was never one for gossip, this side of the young analyst was hilarious. 

“Ehm, no and he would be a she.”  She saw the blue eyes radiate with joy, Emma was waiting for her to start clapping her hands together in excitement.

“Sorry, it’s only that, Red often wonder…” Emma cast her eyes to the ceiling.

“Great, now I have pissed off the Gale Force without even knowing it.”  Belle looked confused. “Long story.  Are you going home, Belle?”  She could see that the girl had more questions, but she picked up her glasses and looked at Emma. 

“What do you need Detective?”  Emma shook her head.  “Can you please run this name for me?  I don’t want to talk to him; I want the contact number of the Mayor’s office where he resides.” Belle took the note from her. 

“David Nolan, is he in the system?”  Emma shook her head. 

“Not the criminal database, run his name through the Sheriff’s department of Maine. Unfortunately, that is all I know of him.” Belle got started with the search.  Emma turned to leave the office. 

“Please go home after this Belle?”  Belle waved her off.  She was going to do the search and then call Red.  She had some juice to share with her friend.

A few moments later, handbag over her shoulder Belle gave the detective the information on David Nolan.  Emma took the note and thanked her. “His wife is the Mayor of the town.”  Emma raised an eyebrow.  “Family business?” 

“Not really, the town is small, the population of less than twenty thousand.” Emma thanked her again. She placed the note in her file for Cherise Middleton.  Mary Margaret Nolan, Mayor of Storybrooke Maine and her contact details.  Emma closed the folder.  She would call the Mayor only when she had no other option.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma runs into more questions than answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay, hope this makes up for it?

**Chapter 5**

Emma placed a pin on her map where Cincinnati was.  He would have left her that clue on purpose.  She was trying to run a connection to the City in her mind, but she came up blank.  She will deal with this shit tomorrow.  She grabbed the keys to her Vulcan and placed a bottle of red wine in the overnight backpack.  She was on her way to meet Gillian.  She tried to dress a bit for the woman.  She had no idea why she did that.  In looking for something to wear, she came across her red leather jacket.  Emma held it in her hands for a moment, then pushed it aside.  She took the blue one.

 

Emma knocked on the upmarket apartment door.  It swung open a few moments later.  Her eyes met Emma’s.  _She is happy,_ Emma thought. 

“As I fucking live and breathe. The Black Swan in blue?”  Emma did not correct the mistaken nickname.  Gillian took a moment to appreciate the lean form of the somewhat distant and private detective.  Emma was leaning against the doorframe on one arm, her ankles crossed on the other side of the frame.  She looked relaxed and when Gillian looked into her eyes, what she saw made her throb.  She invited her in with a smile. Beckoning her with a forefinger as she walked backwards into the apartment.  It was all the invitation, Emma needed.  She entered and locked the door.  In two strides she was in the woman’s personal space.  Gillian was the same height as her when she had heels on.  At the moment she was barefoot, looking up slightly at Emma. 

 

Emma watched as the pulse point of the woman beat faster. The green eyes devoured her, then their lips connected.  Gillian’s lips were soft, as Emma’s fuller lips covered hers, the A.D.A let out a low moan.  Emma loved women; she loved touching them, their softness.  She loved it when a woman moaned with passion or need.  Most of all she loved watching a woman reach that pinnacle point of pleasure, she truly loved to give women that release, it was all Emma could think as she pressed her tongue into Gillian’s mouth.

******

Emma’s second release was hard.  Her body contracted, she felt all the tension leave her body as her desire and need merged with her lust.  She screamed her lover’s name hard from deep within her throat. Her body shook with the release where she was hovering over Gillian. She was out of breath; her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Gillian looked on, satisfied.  They had a quick make-out session in the kitchen, where Gillian’s work pants came off.  Emma was feeding her need in a most succulent way.  Then they ate, made their way to the bed, where after their second session the toys came out. Now as Emma slumped down next to Gillian, she took the harness with their exceptional friend off. Emma snaked herself into Gillian’s body.  They cuddled for a long time before the A.D.A asked the detective about her day. 

 

Emma gave her the short version.  Gillian propped herself up to look at the woman.  “I also heard that you laughed today,” Emma grunted. 

“So what, I am human after all?” _God did everyone had eyes on her?_  She got that warm smile from her lover that seemed to calm her down. She tsked Emma.

“Bright color jacket, jeans, smiles and laughs, some people might start to think something was going on with you?”  She turned her head.  “Oh my god!  Are you blushing?” Emma buried her face into Gillian’s neck.  “You are blushing!”  She gave Emma a light slap.  She felt a flutter in her heart.  She sincerely hoped that she was the reason for Emma’s good mood. 

 

Gillian knew what Emma wanted, three years ago, it was exactly what the attorney had wanted as well.  She remembered back then Emma had other lovers. Their relationship changed over the years. Now she wanted more than the convenient, lustful casual meetings a few nights a month.  She knew Emma was not seeing any other women.  They never agreed on a monogamous relationship, hell they were not even in a relationship, but things have been different.  The Obama administration changed a lot for them. It was one of Gillian’s fears. The prejudges that still existed in the workplace.  They would be able to go out together without causing any waves in their careers.  _A girl could hope_. 

 

There were still so many things that she did not know about Emma.  Sure, she eventually read her file, which told her things she did not know, but the woman herself remained a mystery. Now the beautiful creature was curling into her, her lips pressing fluttering kisses on her neck.  Her heart rate increased.  This woman could turn her into mush, she never tired of Emma’s attention or her lovemaking.  _God, and the woman’s tongue_.  It sent shivers down Gillian’s spine.  Emma’s hands were all over her body.  Her touch was not sexual; it was sensual, she touched Gillian everywhere.  It was one of the things Gillian loved about being with a woman.  It was not only the afterglow attention, but it was this body worship without sexual intent.  Men could not even do that before the sex, never mind afterwards.  She moaned softly as Emma’s hand paid attention to her stomach, her palm tracing a path between her breast and down her ribcage.  “Emma?”  The green eyes looked up.  “I…”  Emma frowned, the attorney was never lost for words, Emma could see the seriousness in her face.  “What is it, Gillian?” 

 

She took a breath and hoped that she would have the courage to tell Emma what she felt.  “I, don’t want to push.”  She started off.  “I know you don’t want a relationship, but I was wondering… Can we see each other more?”  Emma pushed herself up to look directly at the woman, still tracing circles on her tummy with one finger.  “Do you want a relationship?”  Gillian was hardly breathing. 

“Yes.”  She finally admitted softly.  Emma thought about it for a moment.  She told Neal about them today.  She has been hiding this relationship or whatever it was from him for over two years now.  _He did see something today?  Gillian did make her happy, well as happy as she allowed herself to be_.  Then she thought about her last relationship, how it ended. Gillian saw the change in her features.  She leaned in to touch Emma’s face; she was relieved when the woman did not pull away. 

 

“Emma, I don’t know who has hurt you so much that you close yourself off to everyone. I care about you; I like you. We are compatible.  I love waking up in your arms; I would like to do it more often?”  She was not pleading; she was coaching Emma slowly about her sentiments.  She could see the brightness in Emma’s eyes.  Her heart ached for this woman. She had so much to give, she not only shut everyone out, Emma in the process closed herself in to elude the hurt that went with love. Emma got up, pulled her tank top on, Gillian’s heart sank.  She took a pair of boxers from her bag and a small box.  “I will be right back.”  Gillian sat on the bed, hugging her legs, hoping she did not push too far, she would hate losing what they had, if it were all Emma could offer, she would accept it.

 

Emma stood on the small balcony smoking and drinking another beer.  She usually did not drink this time of night, but she did not smoke either.  _What was fucking me up so much?  Was it the case?_ Was it the fact that she knew she would have to make that damn overdue phone call in a few days?  She closed her eyes.  She did not want to make the call, but she knew if Julia Pierce’s body showed up in a dumpster, she would have no other choice.  She was right about this killer; she was right about the personal aspect.  And god was _that_ a can of worms she was not ready to face.  Spencer would take her off the assignment.  Neither the A.D.A nor the D.A. would support her.  More women would die. 

 

She flicked the cigarette butt away and finished her beer.  She closed the balcony door making her way to the kitchen.  She did not turn a light on.  She placed the beer bottle in the recycle bin, washed her hands with the antibacterial soap that was there.  She made her way back to the bedroom.  Emma walked directly to the bathroom.  Gillian would smell that she was smoking, but she thought to brush her teeth and washing her hands was the least she could do. 

Emma returned to the bed.  Took off her boxers and tank top to crawl into the space next to Gillian.  The brunette was sitting still, holding her legs close to her.  Emma relaxed upright against the headrest.  She started to rub small circles on Gillian’s shoulders. 

“I can find your recycle bin in the dark.  I know where you hang up your keys. Where you keep the toys.  I have a toothbrush and a hairbrush here.  If I was an optimistic person, which I am not, I would say that we have been dating for a while now.”  Gillian turned to look at her face in the dim light of the room. The A.D.A turned her head slightly sideways. “Are you serious?” Emma shrugged. 

“All I need is a drawer and two hangers; then I can sleep over whenever you want me to.”  Her voice was even, reassuring.  Gillian narrowed her eyes. 

“There is a _but_?”  Emma took a breath. 

“Yes, there is a _but_ , a small _but_ , however still a _but_.”  Gillian waited for her to continue.  “This case…”  Gillian placed a hand on Emma’s arm.  It was one of the few rules they had; they did not talk shop. 

 

“The Middleton case?” Gillian asked.  Emma nodded. When she looked up the tears was clear in Emma’s eyes, Gillian became aware of the tremendous amount of stress Emma was now displaying. 

“There is more to this case, Gillian.”  The A.D.A let her head drop.  This was the reason they never talked shop.  Emma noticed. 

“Fuck, so Spencer already told your office, I am trying to link the cases?”  Gillian’s hand on the blonde gripped tighter.  “Emma,” It came out more as a whine than what she intended.  Emma leaned back against the headrest. 

“Gillian, if I had proof, your office would be the first to know.  My lack of evidence is starting to make me suspect that this is the only link I have.”  Gillian shook her head. “I know Councilor. The point is that I have more.”  Gillian turned to her, shock written all over her face. “Are you withholding evidence?” Emma turned to her annoyed.

“Are you fucking insane? Spencer has everything I have on my three open murders. He does not want to hear what I have to say. You know damn well I would never withhold evidence.”  Gillian calmed down a bit.

“Alright, what is your more?”  Emma swallowed.  “You are not going to approve of it.”  Gillian snorted.  “I am already not approving.”  Emma took Gillian’s hands, looking into her worried brown eyes. 

“Gillian, if I am right, this is going to cause a shit storm, surpassing anything you have ever experienced.  I don’t want to be right Gillian.  I want someone to tell me the killings are not related, that there is no pattern.  That I fucked up and that I need to start all over again. I will; I will put in extra time to see what I missed the first time.”

 

“What are you trying to say, Emma?”  Emma looked at their intertwined hands. 

“If I am right, I will consult with someone that will tell me yes or no.  If it is a yes, the shit storm will hit.  I do not want you or your office near me.  I might lose my badge; I might get suspended. I do not want you to be swept up in this.  Do you understand what I am saying?”  Gillian swallowed and nodded. 

“Are you asking me to back off?” Emma showed some frustration.  

“What the fuck Gillian?  Is that what you think I am capable of?”  Emma’s ire was tangible. Do your job, your office can deal with me, and Spencer the same way you always do. I am not undermining you, I am not bribing you, and I am sure as hell am not asking you to back down or to give me time on the investigation.  I am asking you to give _me_ some time. As soon as this case is over, and that day is inevitable currently, we can sit down and speak about it?”  Gillian’s eyes were big. 

“Emma, with the little you already told me, I can have you removed from your investigation tomorrow.”  Emma smiled at her sadly. 

“Honestly Gillian.  I don’t think that would even change a thing.  Please take my advice? Stay away from me? When this is over, we can talk about the other aspects of our lives?” She nodded, Emma, pulled her into her arms, covering them both.  They fell asleep like that.  During the night, Gillian held on tight, soaking up Emma’s warmth.  She loved it. Until Emma started fighting her daemons in her sleep.  Gillian left her.  Over the years the nightmares did not ease up.  On the contrary, the nightly experience was worse. Emma never explained, never enlighten Gillian about it.  Her only explanation ever was that her subconscious dealt with the violence of the homicide she observed which her conscious mind could not comprehend.

 

The next morning was almost domesticated.  Gillian woke up with Emma watching her sleeping figure and softly caressing her breast.  When she let out a soft sigh of contentment, Emma kissed her neck. Her lips landed softly on the sleeping woman.  Her hand explored more when Emma felt the warmth of Gillian’s desire. She decided to do something about it.  It was a marvelous way to start the morning. They showered together, then dressed. All the while Emma would touch her or steal glances at her body.  Gillian felt happy.  There was hope for them, for something more.  She packed Emma lunch.  Left a sweet note in the plastic container.  Emma kissed her goodbye before they left the apartment.  It was going to be a good day.

Emma was later than usual, Gillian, and her attention to the woman, making her late.  She did not care.  Neal watched her as she made her way over to her desk that was across from his. “God, damn, you got laid.”  She gave him a wicked smile.  Then he noticed the jeans.  “You are wearing blue jeans.”  She took her shades off.  “And?” She asked as if it was the most natural thing on earth.

“You never wear jeans, when you do, it’s black.  I don’t think I have ever seen you in blue…”  He trailed off.  That was not true.  They used to go out, pick up girls together and laugh, back then Emma wore blue jeans and bright jackets mostly with white T’s or tank tops.  “Does this mean the old Emma is back?”  He asked carefully.  Emma’s tummy turned.  “Perhaps.  It is time don’t you think?” He inhaled with relief and gave her a warm smile.  “Yeah.”  He said, his eyes conveying his love for her. 

 

Emma picked up the phone to order a bunch of flowers to be delivered to A.D.A Gillian Marsh by ten.  She paid with her credit card; Neal thought the better of it than to comment.  Everything he had seen thus far was right; he did not want to jinx it.  “What is the plan for today Swan?”  She looked at her partner, brushed her hair back with her right hand, thinking about it.  She did not want to involve Neal too much.  He was a good cop; if she was wrong, she would go down alone.  She asked him a question out of the blue.  “I have been thinking about James a lot lately.”   Neal tensed.  He looked at Emma, she seemed far off, in the past somewhere.  “Yeah, some days I think of him as well, why?”  She shrugged her shoulders.  “As I said, he is on my mind.”  She thought about the contact information in the file Belle gave her yesterday.  She needed to call the mayor, she did not want to disrupt an innocent person’s life, but her prime suspect was James.  The Camry guy had the same build and height as James.  She hated the fact that her mind was going there, only three people knew about James, none of them would talk about a time so long ago, her worst day.

 

“Did you get anything from the roommate yesterday?”  Neal handled the interview.  He was far more sympathetic than she. Neal’s laid-back manner made people at ease. “No, she said that they often used Uber.  Especially after long flights.  When they were too tired to drive the twenty miles to their house. She could not give us a positive ID on the guy, but I have her signed consent to go through her and Middleton’s accounts and cell phone bills.  If we are lucky, Belle will find a match.”  Emma nodded.  She needed to give Belle more information to work with. 

“Okay, anything on the murder weapon?”  He shook his head. 

“No, Doc could not find any trace elements.  Her conclusion that it is a hunting or combat knife is all we have.”  He hesitated, wondering if he should touch on the subject of the May and Cole cases.  A spear point knife and a curved knife was used in those murders. 

“What about the dump site?  Any CCTV?”  Neal continued. 

“Yes, I am still waiting for the footage, I will go over it as soon as I have it.  Anything specific you want me to look for.”  She shook her head. 

“No, only the Camry or someone in the general description we have of the guy.”  She sat back.  “Neal, Cherise was missing for almost eight days.  He fed her, looked after her. She sat on the floor; she was chained up.”  He turned his head.  “What are you thinking Swan?”  She frowned.  “That is the problem; I don’t know.  He kept her somewhere, which is why I went to see Will.  I was hoping they caught something.”  Neal thought about it.

“You think he kept her at the dock?”  Emma nodded.  “Either there or somewhere he knows he would not be disturbed.  Abandon buildings, a place where he can clean up without arising suspicion.”  Neal’s eyes lit up. 

“I can run with that.  Slaughterhouse?”  Emma smiled and got up. 

“Yes, that is perfect, it has everything he would need.  Also look at closed hospitals or clinics?”  He thought.  “Got ya!”  Neal answered, knowing that she was thinking about the fake reference of Donald Harvey, he used that name for a purpose. Donald Harvey did his killing at a hospital.

 

Belle was busy, but when Emma greeted her, she stopped her work.  “Detective Swan, what can I do…”  She looked at Emma; _I_ _need to call Red_ , she thought.  The Detective had skin tight blue jeans on with a light blue shirt instead of black.

“Wow!”  Emma shook her head with a smile and came to sit next to Belle. 

“Miss French, can you do some more unsanctioned work for me?”  The geek smiled at her.  “Can you run the Uber search against Melissa May, Heather Cole, Constance Grace, and Kimberly Downs?”  A little frown appeared under the auburn head.  She knew who Melissa May and Heather Cole were.  Red discussed the cases with her; her friend said at the time that Emma was looking for something that was not there.  The other names were unfamiliar.  She swallowed.  “Only an Uber link?”  Emma patted her on her leg to reassure her. 

“Yes, and try some names against their Uber accounts, Dennis Radar, Gary Leon Ridgway, Robert Lee Yates, and Keith Hunter Jesperson.  Emma stopped to think about the names that tumbled from her lips.  _What did they have in common?_  

 

“Can you also check those names for truck or container rentals in the last five months here in Boston?”  Belle looked nervous.  She was fidgeting and moving in her chair. 

“What is it, Belle?”  The woman looked down at her hands, slightly trembling.  She knew police procedure inside out, she also knew that Detective Swan did not always play by the rules, but this was too much for Belle to handle. 

 

“Do you have a suspect pool?”  Emma gave her a confused frown. 

“No, why…”  She let out a sigh. Emma shook her head as she began to understand Belle’s attitude.  “Belle that is a line I would not cross.  I will never put you in a position where you would have to report me.  Look at me?”  Her voice was stern enough for Belle to look up.  “You do not know any of the men whose names I gave you?”  Belle shook her head.  Emma took her shaking hands to give her some reassurance.  “They are the names of serial killers, I thought since the ID of our suspect that you picked up was the name of a serial killer, he would use others as covers.”  Belle sat stiffly. “Oh.” 

Emma pressed her lips together to suppress a smile.  “How is it that you are so smart and you don’t know this?”

“I read romance novels.”  Belle realized what she said and turned to her computer as she started to work, she did not want to look at Emma as a rich blush crept up her cheeks.  Emma chuckled. 

“Neal told you, huh?”  She merely answered with an “Hmm, hmm.” Emma thought it was hysterically funny. “Thank you, Miss French.”  She said as she left the office.

 Emma called Neal and passed the truck or container theory by him.  He added it to his list and told her he started his search on foot, near the docks with a few Officers whom she briefed the day before.  She thanked him. 

 Emma received a message from Gillian after ten that made her blush. She felt her lust rise as she read it.  _Phew_ , she thought.  _This woman might kill me with physical want long_ _before Spencer could._   She messaged her back with a promise to stay over again.  Then she called Leroy.  His mood was foul.  The Camry went through a valet clean the day before the suspect dropped it off in Providence.  He had footage from the carwash, but it was the same as all the other’s they had, no clear picture. 

“Check the petrol cap, and behind the indicator and light leavers on the car, no one ever cleans there.”  He cursed something at her and ended the call.  She thought he was a good cop. Emma hoped that when all this was over, she could take him out for a beer.

 

Emma got the call she expected ever since she spoke to Belle. “Doctor Lucas, what a surprise.”  Red rolled her eyes.  She could hear Emma was expecting the call. 

“Detective, I have more information for you on the Middleton case, can you drop by?”  Red asked casually. 

“Gee, Doc, I’m swamped.  Can’t you tell me over the phone?”  She had a smirk on her face.  “Um, yeah, no, no!  You need to see this.  I will come by your office.”  Emma could hardly contain herself.  She answered in a neutral voice. 

“If it is that important Red, I will stop by in a few minutes, I came to work on my bike, so traffic would not be a problem.”  The line went silent.  She could imagine the images running through Red’s brain with the new information. “Doc?”

“Hmm, yes, yes, good.”  The call ended, Emma felt impressed with her stunt.

 

A few minutes later the Vulcan stopped in front of the M.E’s building. She saw the Doctor in her approach.  Emma swung one long leg over the back of the bike. For effect took her helmet off, flipped her head from side to side a few times to get her golden locks loose.  She gave the doctor a better view; her back end turned to the brunette.  When Emma swung around she walked up to the M.E as if nothing was the matter. Red was in shock. 

“Hey Doc, you did not need to meet me outside.”  Emma stood a step lower than the doctor.  She knew it would give her admirer a good view of her cleavage.  Emma had her shades on; she could study the doctor, who still did not utter a word.  “So she had Zopivane in her system?”  The words shook the doctor from her haze.  “Yes,” she said and gave Emma the most brilliant full smile she had ever seen. 

 

The young doctor normally gave her a tad of a smile; there was always a seriousness to her features that was gone currently.  Emma placed the folder under her arm and took her glasses off to look at Red; there was a mischievous smile in her eyes. 

“You could have informed me of this over the phone Doctor Lucas.”  It took a few moments for Red to tear her eyes away from that cleavage.  “You look nice today Detective.” Emma shook her head. 

“Thank you, Red. You do know you, stir the Gale Force’s lower extremities?”  Red looked at her completely confused. “What?  What does that mean?”  Emma smiled. 

“What do you mean by the wind?”  Emma raised an incredulous eyebrow. Then she licked her lips in the hope that the doctor would understand her next words. 

“It means that another Detective has her eye on you, which is woefully a salad I am not putting my fingers into, however tempting.  See you Red.”  Emma walked off, while Red was checking out Emma’s departure, her mind tried to make sense of what the detective said.  She was clueless.  She would ask Belle. Maybe it was cop talk.  She tried to calm her breathing, _man that woman had a body that she would appreciate to examine_ , she thought.

 

Emma’s pleasant mood changed in a fraction of a second when she returned to the station.  There was a message on her desk to call Detective Sargent Sullen.  She called immediately; she knew his number off my heart now.  “Leroy, tell me you have something?”  His voice sounded excited.  “Swan you are one helluva cop.  We got two index fingerprints. Both were on the indicator switch and the lights.  Mellissa May and Heather Cole, the rest of the car is clean, we are searching…”

“Don’t bother.”  Emma interrupted him mid-sentence. 

“What?”  He yelled. 

“I said don’t bother looking for them; they’re dead.”

“Dead?”  He asked numbly. 

“Yes, their bodies were found eight months ago, disposed of naked in an alley and a dumpster, one blonde with green eyes, one dark with dark brown eyes.  Faces mutilated, blonde with a spear tip from a right-handed person, brunette with a curved knife from a left-handed person, they were found four days apart.  The blonde, Melissa May’s death has similarities to my current case, Cherise Middleton.”

 

There was silence for a moment.  “Your theory.”  He said slow and painful.

“Yes.”  She whispered back.  Silence. 

“Swan is Julia Pierce still alive?”  She felt a tear run down her cheek, the stoic, cold detective with the bad temper was crying. 

“I don’t know Leroy, I have looked everywhere, I have guys looking for her right now.”  She sniffed. 

“Tomorrow is four days Emma.”  She tried desperately to keep the treble out of her voice. “I know.”  She wiped her eyes.

“Leroy, was there something more, something strange about the prints?”  He let out a breath. 

“Yes, I was getting to that.  The prints on the indicator were down, the prints on, the lights were up…”  His voice trailed off.  He hoped Emma could clear it up for him.  Her voice was rough and strained when she answered.  “Two down, two to go.  He planted it.”

“Fuck!”  That was all she got.  Then his anger and frustration exploded.  “Why the fuck are you only telling me this now?  You said you had a theory; you did not tell me that you had a fucking serial killer!”  Emma said nothing as he carried on.  “You knew, you knew from the start what was going to happen, and you did fuck all to stop it!  Fuck you, Swan.” 

 

The phone was slammed down in her ear.  She whispered, “I’m sorry,” To the deadline.

She wiped her eyes again and noticed the mascara stain on her sleeve.  She looked at it wondering how the hell did it get there, then she remembered she had a blue shirt on instead of black.  She did not see stains on her black shirts.  When she looked up, she saw a rapidly departing Belle. 

“Miss French!”  She called her back.  Belle stopped in her tracts, all the will in her body screamed to run, but she turned around.  She had never seen Emma cry.  Belle has never heard of this cop crying.  Now she was the bearer of more bad news.  When Emma looked at Belle’s face, she knew.

 

“You found more women.”  Her voice was dead.  This time Belle wanted to run away.  Emma turned her chair. Took the file from Belle’s shaking hands.  She looked at the two copied dockets.  Paula Jennings, twenty-six and Simone Lance, thirty-two.  Emma’s eyes teared up; she saw the Virginia State emblem. She did not want to look at these cases.  It was too close; it would be too painful.  She looked at Belle who was clearly uncomfortable.  She placed the files unopened on her desk.

 

“Did it happen in Hampton?”  Belle nodded, her concerns growing by the minute.  Emma was shaking lightly. _This fucker is playing with me.  The prints, Virginia. Was nothing sacred?  Was nothing in my life private any longer?_   The thought depressed her. “Was Paula Jennings raped?”  Belle did not have to answer, Emma could see it in her eyes. Emma absently bobbed her head, looking at the closed file.  She brought her hands up to her face. The news was devastating, causing Emma to sit there, stunned at the situation. Her head down.  Belle was too scared to do anything.  Cops seldom broke down or show emotions, detectives less so.  

 

 _How did Emma know what was in the case file?  None of the other three except for Miss Middleton was raped_.  The sick concern that Emma was withholding evidence came to the forefront of Belle’s mind.  She was doing unsanctioned searches for the detective. Truth be told, she liked Emma, but she liked her job more.  The detective needed to explain her knowledge or Belle would have no option other than to report her to the Lieutenant.  She took a seat next to Emma. 

“Detective, how could you know that?”  Emma looked up at her.  Belle saw something in her eyes that was not there before.  _What was it, fear, shame?_   “Emma, are you withholding evidence?” Belle was shaking violently awaiting the answer in anticipation. Emma shook her head, then asked, “How did you find them, Belle?”

 

Belle took a breath; she did not even realize that they were talking softer. 

“The names you gave me.  Dennis Radar was a registered long distance courier.  He rented five cars under that name in Virginia.”  Belle stopped as she watched all the blood drain from Emma’s face.  Emma tried hard to contain her emotions. Her voice was a whisper when she asked. “Was Simone Lance beaten badly?”  Belle nodded. Emma shook her head; if she had doubts before, this cleared it up. Her mind hammered on one name, _James._   Emma tried to control her emotions. The pieces falling into place as her mind rattled with the new information. _Hampton_.  She had pushed Hampton so far out of her conscious mind.  She never thought to look for more women beyond Washington DC.  So many things made sense now.  Emma felt the nervous tension that she had controlled so well for so long snap.  _I was right_.  The thought made her tremble instead of sating the sentiment of vindication.  

 

She knew it would get worse the moment she told Spencer of her findings today.  She could link three cases and the Julia Pierce kidnapping. She would be taken off the case. Some other detective or FBI Agent would tear her life apart. _Fuck, I need to call her_.  She needed to do that before the shit hit the fan.  It made her heart ache more.  “Sorry Belle, please go on?”  She asked in a dull tone.

 

Belle took out the photograph.  He was younger, however similar to all the other DMV ID’s they had of him; he looked different.  In this one, he was blonde with a full beard.   In one DMV photo, he even had a scar. He changed his appearance with every car it seemed.  It was only the dull blue eyes that were the same in every photo.  _Fuck this guy was capable_.  Emma hated the thought. 

“What happened?”  Belle shifted her legs where she sat.

“Paula worked at the police station; she was a clerk there.  She disappeared and was found five days later, less than a mile away from the police station, dumped on the bed of the Hampton River.  Same M.O as your open cases.”  Emma looked at her. 

“How did you find them?”  The same question again. 

“Dennis was a courier for the police.  He even helped with the search.”  Emma could not believe what she heard. Even though it was a typical thing for killers to do, insert themselves into the investigation, similar to Ed Kemper, this fuck, however, did it before the killings even took place. It indicated to his psychotic sadism.   Belle noticed the pained expression on the detective’s face.  She carried on.  “Simone Lance was a psychologist at the McGuire Veterans Hospital.  Her body was found dumped at the country club where her family are members. Close to their home in Westham, over the Henrico County Line, her husband is an esteemed lawyer.  He was running for A.D.A when his wife went missing.”  Emma did not move.  Her mind filled with images that she would have preferred to suppress.  She clenched her fists to try to regain control.

“Any DNA?”  Emma knew the answer before she asked it. “No, Paula’s vagina was douched.” 

 

Emma looked up. She registered something as she opened the file she took earlier from Doctor Lucas. She paged to the other findings.  Cherise’s vagina was also douched.  Emma looked at the water composition and started typing on her computer.  

“In Doctor Lucas’s report, it says that she found high levels of Cd, Pb, Cu, Hg, Fe, Zn, and Enterococcus Fecal Coliform.”

Belle looked at her.  “Cadmium Gas, Lead, Copper, Mercury, Iron, Zinc, and shit?”  Emma gave her a half smile. 

“It is level five water.  It is not drinkable, it is found in Boston Harbor and South End near the railroad.”  Belle patted her leg. 

“I will update the BOLO.”  Emma let her head rest in her hands again. She hoped to god that they would find Julia Pierce alive. She looked at the time; it was mid-afternoon. She scanned the file again to see if she missed something.  At this point, she would take anything if it could lead her to the missing woman.  An Officer dropped a folder on her desk.  She looked at him.  “It is addressed to you, ma’am, it is a report from Jersey.  She thanked him, opened the file.  It was Leroy’s report on the Camry.  She sighed.  _So the shit storm starts_.  She got up and walked to Spencer’s office.  She knocked, he called her in.

 

The hair on the back of his head stood up, Detective Swan never visited his office out of her own volition, neither did she cry, yet, here she was in his office with red puffy eyes. “Swan?”  His question was softer than usual.  She gave him Leroy’s report.  He scanned through it, twice. _Jesus, she was right all along_.  “And Julia Pierce?”  She looked tired. 

“There are officers on the lookout for her.  The BOLO was updated with new information.  We have officers in South End searching there as well.  Belle also found a rental from Logan under the name Eddie Kemper.  It is a silver Honda Prius, it was added to the BOLO, that car will stand out in South End and the Harbor.” 

 

Spencer still looked pissed.  “Eddie Kemper?”  Emma felt exhausted.  “He is using serial killer pseudonyms.”  Spencer’s face turned red. 

“Three or more killings constitute a serial killer.”  Emma wanted to slap him.  He was an ass because now some of the heat would come his way.  Evidently not from Jersey alone. She told Spencer eight months before that the cases were linked.  It was irrational not to connect the murders. Circumstantially it did not correlate that two dumped, naked bodies of women appeared in one week, with all the similarities, including the brutal facial mutilated.  Emma knew they were connected.  _Damn the fact that it was different weapons and a left and a right-handed combination, fuck she was ambidextrous_! _The MO screamed the same person; no one would listen to her_!  Spencer went so far, as to document a verbal order to her, to investigate the May and Cole murders as separate cases.  Emma knew now that the simple reprimand might save her ass.  She had some proof, physical proof, not obtained by herself.  He left his two previous victims’ prints in the car he picked up his current victims in.

 

“Does three murders and an abduction qualify him as a serial killer?”  She taunted the Lieutenant.  He swallowed.  “How much time do we have?”  It was Thursday. Emma rubbed the back of her neck. 

“If he keeps to his schedule, he will dump the body tonight to be found tomorrow morning.”  Spencer’s nostrils flared.  “Where?”  Emma wanted to cry again.

“If I knew that Sir, I would be waiting there for him.”  Her answer was soft; it was only then that he took in her whole state.  She looked tired; he could see she was stressed, the little makeup she did wear was smeared under her eyes.  She looked appalling.

 

“Go home, Swan. Go and sleep.  You can fuck me with your facts tomorrow.  I will put out an APB; I will ask MSP and MassPort to assist in the search. She nodded. 

“Thank you, Sir.”  She turned to leave when he called an officer over his com.

“Take Detective Swan home.” Then to her, “You look as if you are going to collapse from exhaustion at any moment Emma.”  She could not recall him ever using her first name.  She did not argue.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The killer strikes again. Emma has to answer for her knowledge of the victim and the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning. This killer is depraved. There are graphic descriptions of mutilation, his depravity of his victim, assault, murder, and violation.  
> I did a lot of research on the BPD their Districts, the various jurisdictions, like the Harbour and Airport falling under MSP. The police codes I received from a website on the BPD. I hope it is more or less accurate. Forgive me if I got the police procedure completely wrong.

Chapter 6

The officer walked Emma to her door. Another one brought her bike home. She thanked them both and entered her apartment. She did not bother to turn a light on. She rarely drank, if she did, it was beer. Tonight, however, she made her way to the kitchen cupboard where her cereal was kept. She took out a bottle of cheap scotch. Emma took the bottle and a water glass. She made her way to the single couch in the open plan lounge. She sunk into the comfortable softness of the well-worn seat. She poured the scotch to the brim of the water glass, almost downing it all before the drink burned her throat too much. She wanted to be numb tonight. She did not want to feel. Belle’s revelation of two more murders and where it happened was too much for her. She knew what the killer was doing now. What his obsession was. How she fitted into his deranged fantasy. Where his brunette victims fitted into his fantasy. Emma felt the anger and hurt boil inside her. She had tried so hard to move on. She lost so much with James. Emma felt small, identifying with her inner child for a moment, remembering where her lousy disposition came from. Whenever she felt happy, settled or comfortable, the shit would hit the fan. She would be passed off to the next home, another drunken mother or landed in a home far from suited for a child. She stopped feeling, stopped talking. Most of all, she stopped trusting. Days and years would pass her by without any recollection as if her childhood was one blurred disappointment. Until she met James and Neal. With them she found an easiness to life, things to look forward to, but as always, it was ripped away from her. She wanted to cry. Cry for her loss, her childhood, her lover… God, how she missed her. The tears fell for the one person, other than Neal and Will that she truly loved.

Emotionally, she was drained. Emma took her badge, gun, and scanner off. She placed the items on the low coffee table in front of her. She took off her boots and scratched in her pocket for her cell phone. There were two missed calls from Gillian. She ignored them. Placing the phone on silent mode. She kept her scanner on. She could hear the different reports coming in. Her only focus was on a code ten medical or a 10-54. She drank her second glass of awful scotch slower. Listening to the background droning of officers calling in, she felt her body relax and molding itself to the couch. Rest at last.  
**********  
The call came in at 6:35. Dispatch this is 6 Delta 3975 I have a possible 10-54 behind the homeless center on Harrison. This is a 217. I need a 10-55 response. The radio voice continued. 10-4, 6 Delta 3975, units are on their way… the voice continued with commands, but Emma did not listen. She was awake the moment she heard 10-54. She grabbed her gun, and the other items lying on the table. She got her keys and helmet from the kitchen. She was out the door within two minutes of the call coming in. The body dump was not in her district; she hoped that she would arrive before the lead detective. The dump site was only a mile from the District D4 police station. It would be buzzing with cops by the time she got there.

Emma was right. The area was crawling with uniforms. She showed her badge to the perimeter cop. He did not adjust his stance as he stood there. Emma was not in the mood. “I am here to observe. You can mark your territory later!” The Officer gave her a look but lifted the yellow police tape for the Detective. “You are the first detective on site.” She nodded and made her way through. She received a number of curious looks. She did not know if it was due to the state she was in or because this was not her crime scene. She stopped when she saw the body. 

Even from a distance, she could see the horrific mutilation. It was when she got closer and saw the rest of his brutality that she lost it. Emma turned to run a few steps before she emptied the content of her stomach. She could not tell if it was the gruesome scene, her binge the night before or the lack of food and sleep. It did not matter. She dry heaved for a few more moments. All the attention was on her now. She was a cop with a reputation, none of the officers would have ever thought the cold detective would lose her breakfast at a crime scene. She took a paper towel that an Officer handed her. Emma wiped her mouth. “Thank you.” She simply stared at him as she got upright and took a breath of air. 

“Sure. Have you ever seen anything as bad as this before Detective?” She looked over at the body again. “No, not exactly, but I have seen something similar to this.” He nodded, then walked back with her towards the body. “Who found her?” The Officer pointed to another beat cop, younger than himself. The guy was pale and clearly shook up. “He lost his breakfast as well after calling it in.” Emma only nodded. Her tummy was still doing flips. She started to shake lightly, she was sure she looked as bad as she felt. She wiped her brow and began to assess the scene. 

The victim was dumped in the alley behind the inn and the Boston Healthcare for the homeless. There were several dumpsters. She lay between two. The killer took out several garbage bags to lay the body over it. Her feet were pointing to the back of the wall, her face and torso exposed. Anyone would have noticed from the street looking into the alley. Emma felt a tear escape her eyes. She wiped it quickly. Was she more affected, because she was looking for her alive only a few hours ago or because she knew it was Julia? She was a person, not a body until this point? Emma shook the thought from her mind. 

She studied the mutilation of the face. It was cruel and barbaric. She tried not to think of the level of pain and panic Julia would have been in the moments before death. He scalped her, only the removal of her face was from the jawline up. He sliced the skin off from her ears to her chin and ripped the lower part of her face over her nose. The skin was still there. She was open, expose, naked with her mandible giving the onlooker a horror grin. For Emma, that was not the worst part. She could see the genital mutilation, that was not new, what was new was the phallus between her legs. Emma could not tear her gaze from it. If there was any uncertainty in her mind about this killer and the personal connection he had with her, the dildo between Julia Pierce’s legs removed all thought of it. It was a neutral colored dildo, a good replica of a penis. The veins and formation were indicating it. However, the head of the penis was removed, the reproduction was stabbed a few times. There was no doubt the message of his anger. Emma took a step back. She wiped her eyes again. How did he know? Only three people knew. She felt the emotions boil up in her. She needed to get away. She needed to make the call. Emma felt her stomach come alive again. She ran over to the spot where she threw up before. Then her morning of torture became complete.

“Well, fuck me! Detective Swan, puking all over my crime scene!” Emma closed her eyes and tried to compose herself.   
“Not to worry, love.” The owner of the second voice started to rub her back. For a moment she was grateful, then he spoke again. “Luckily I am here to brighten your day and give you comfort, aye?” She shoved his arm from her back as she got up. “Fuck off Killian.”

Killian Jones. Junior’s big brother. Killian was a great cop. He was smart, charming, incredibly handsome with his Irish baby blues, modern designer black beard and raven hair. He had rippling muscles in all the right places. His ass looked good in any jeans. The problem was, he knew it and with the charm came his chauvinistic arrogance plus the conviction that Emma would be straight, as soon as she slept with him. His partner, however, was an even a more significant pain in Emma’s ass, though she would never admit that the slightly butch assertive detective got to her.  
“Gale,” she greeted the woman who took an aggressive stance between Emma and the body. Her arms were folded in front of her chest. Her legs were slightly apart. Tori Gale was one of the few detectives in Boston that Emma had real respect for, not that she would ever admit to that aloud either. 

Tori was a born and raised third generation Boston cop. When her Daddy told her that it was a job for her two big brothers, she proved him wrong by earning her detective rank before her brothers.

“Care to tell me what you are doing here?” There was no indication of friendliness on the meter face. Emma wiped her mouth with the leftover paper towel. “I was in the vicinity and came to have a look.”  
Detective Gale narrowed her dark eyes. “Bullshit, you look like you slept in the washing basket.”  
“Tori is right, love, actually you look and smell as if you came out of a pub, but your ass looks stunning in those jeans.” Killian chirped in friendly. Emma ignored them both as started to walk off. Gale grabbed her by the arm to stop her. Emma looked at the hand on her upper arm. The detective had enough sense to released Emma as if she knew it was going a bit too far. “Emma?”   
Emma closed her eyes and breathed deep. Fine, so the shitty of the morning was getting shittier by the minute. “Doctor Lucas.” She greeted her. Red’s eyes were big.   
“Did you go home last night? You have yesterday’s clothes on. Are you alright?” She was starting to look Emma over for injuries or some explanation for the current state she was in. “Yes, yes and yes Doc.” Red nodded, still looking for an explanation.   
“Why are you so pale?” A fuming Gale answered. “She puked all over herself.” The explanation was stark and demising.   
“Emma?” They both could hear the concern in the M.E’s voice. That lit Gale’s explosive fuse.   
“This is not your district, therefore not your crime scene, Detective, so why not take your drunk ass home and clean yourself up? You are a disgrace to the badge!” Emma chuckled at the reprimand, which shocked the trio more than anything. 

“No need to piss on me and mark your terrain Gale Force, we all know your balls are bigger than mine.” Emma realized what she said. It brought the tears back into her eyes. Tori looked on in shock and Red immediately reach out to her. “Emma?” She asked softly. The detective wiped her eyes with her sleeve. When she spoke, her voice was full of emotion.   
“Body is over there Red.” Doctor Lucas looked past the detective and officers. She saw the display. When she replied, her words were a harsh reprimand.   
“Emma, I do not need to tell you this again!” Emma nodded straight away.   
“No Doc, you don’t need to, I know the answer already. Can you please send me a copy of the autopsy report?” She asked the doctor. Red said yes, it started Tori off again. “This is not your case Swan.”  
“No, it’s not Gale. But I would appreciate a copy of your findings as well please, including the crime scene photos?” Gale wanted to argue when she realized Emma said please. The cold, distant detective never asked, she demanded, and besides Doctor Lucas’ attention, it was the only thing that ever pissed Tori off, Emma’s superior attitude. 

“Alright, I will send it to you as soon as we are finished.” Emma nodded her thanks and gave the detective a piece of paper. “What is this?” Emma looked at the body and then back to Tori.   
“It is the direct line of Detective Sargent Leroy Sullen from JNPD. Run the victim’s prints through a missing person’s from Jersey first. Then let him know you have found his vic.” Gale narrowed her eyes. “You know who that is?” Gale pointed to the mutilated face. Emma indicated her yes. She has seen so many photos of Julia Pierce over the last four days that there was no doubt in her mind who the victim was. Same build, height, and hair. She walked off, but before she did, she said, “Yes, that is Julia Pierce.”  
**********  
He watched the entire scene. He stood behind the police tape, pretending to be a photographer. He watched Emma’s reaction to his little surprise. Good, she lost her breakfast. She was as appalled as he was by the brunette. He watched the other two detectives come to her, the argument. The man’s filthy hands on her. She shook him off. Then the other brunette. He took a picture of her. She seemed too friendly with Emma while the other woman only displayed rage. He frowned. She was walking away. Why was she walking away?   
He felt the fury inside him. He asked the Officer closest to him for an answer. The answer did not suit him. This was District D4, Emma’s District was C6. Damn! He did not know. She would not be working on this case. It angered him. He started to walk off down Harrison, past the police station to where he parked his car. It was not all a total loss. He knew that the Detective was too invested in this case, she would look at the autopsy report. She would find the additional present he left her. This one was different. She had fought back, what had angered him so much was that there remained a defiant arrogance in her eyes, even in death. She smiled back at him. He hated the bitch. He smiled slowly. The next one was going to be a big surprise. He has been watching her for weeks. He would feel so much better closer to Emma after he got rid of this new one.  
************

When Emma saw what her appearance, as she looked at her reflection in her bathroom mirror it made her shuddered. She could not remember the last case that had shaken her up so much. The kidnapping of a four-year-old girl. She was found strangled two days later. She remembered. Sometimes she hated her job. Her job was to prevent, to protect and serve, not to be the illusion of a fucking sadistic serial killer! Ten women. He had killed ten women to get her attention. Now he had that and more. Spencer would have to look at her case, at all her findings, she could only link four murders, but surely he would listen to her theory this time? No, she would call first. The thought made her more depressed. It really was her last option. She needed another opinion now.

Emma showered, dressed, all in black as usual. She blow-waved her hair. The golden locks tumbled down her back. She applied makeup to try and hide the dark rings under her eyes. She looked amazing as she walked out the door, coffee in hand. She hoped that by the time she reached the office that her emotions would settle. 

Neal was waiting for her outside the station. “What the hell have you done?” She walked past him. “And a good morning to you too Neal.” He grabbed her by the arm and swung her around to face him.   
“I am serious Emma? What did you do?” She gave him a little frown. “Meaning?” He tilted his head. She did not know. “Meaning there is a shit storm waiting for you inside.” It did not surprise her. She knew it would come. 

“Whatever happens Neal, tell the truth, I have kept you and Belle out of it for as long as I could.” It depressed him. He knew she was investigating the May and Cole cases together. He also knew that she linked the Middleton case to those as well. But there was more. He had known Emma for a long time. He had seen the best and the worst of her. She withheld something. And it was big. No one hides a secret that big and your best friend do not notice. It was the small things. Her shoulders were sagging every time she looked at the files. Mornings similar to this morning where she was wearing more makeup than usual to hide the fact that she had been crying and did not sleep. He hated the fact that she did not trust him enough to come clean with him and yet he appreciated the fact that she was protecting him. From the faces inside and the whispers he was hearing, he was relieved that he knew little of her investigation. He walked in with her. She did not bother to take her shades off as she made her way to her desk. Unfortunately, everyone was waiting for her arrival. Gale was the first to confront her. The detective pushed her way through to Emma and on her approach started to shout. 

“How did you know, how the fuck did you know who she was! She doesn’t even have a face, how did you know?” Tori was not hysterical. It was anger, blind fury that was pushing her towards Emma. She shoved Emma the moment she stood in front of her. Neal and Killian flanked them to avoid any altercation. Emma quietly took off her jacket and her glasses to look at Gale. “So it is Julia Pierce?” Her voice was strained. Gale started her interrogation again. “How did you know?” Emma replied sadly. “I have been looking for her, for four days.” Gale got into her face.   
“Bullshit! Where were you last night Detective?” Her eyes conveyed that she wanted an answer. “Am I a suspect now Gale?” The words came out bitter.   
“Damn right,” Gale yelled and with those words, grabbed Emma’s arm, twisting it behind her back. Slamming her on her desk. Neal and Killian were too late to respond. The moment Emma felt the cuff around her wrist, she reacted. Gale leaned in to take her other arm when Emma hit out. Her boot connected with Gale’s shin. The moment the stronger detective held up, Emma brought her body up and slammed Gale in the face with her elbow. By then Killian had a firm hold on his partner. 

Emma saw the cuffs hanging from her right wrist. She backed away until she hit a wall. She held her arm away from herself as if the cuffs were a poisonous snake. Neal had seen his partner panic before. He came into action. Neal spoke to her softly, as one would to a child. He took off the cuff with his own key. Once the metal fell from her arm, she stepped away from it and into Neal’s arms. The other three Detectives looked at her behavior. Not even Neal understood Emma’s reaction. She composed herself in Neal’s arms when she whispered a sorry to him. He saw that the armor was back on, stronger than before. She excused herself. Making her way past Gale when the woman pushed her back. “I’m not done with you!”   
Emma’s eyes changed between her panic and now. When Gale looked at her, she felt fear take hold of her heart. Emma towered over her. She took a step closer. Gale took a step back, Emma was in her space. Her face was hard.  
“If you think I have anything to do with this, you are the most incompetent cop in Boston.” Gale took a step back. “This sadistic fuck mutilates women, he takes their identities away by cutting up their faces, he strips them of their dignity by dumping them in the trash, naked and alone. He feeds off their fear. He starves them, he chains them up like animals. He lets them sit in their own shit for four days, and you think I have something to do with it?” With every step Emma closed in on Gale, she took a step back. The detective had anger washing from her in waves, to Gale, it felt tangible. They have never got along, but neither did they go at each other like this. 

“So you are withholding evidence!” Gale accused, Emma, lost it. ”You stupid fucking ignorant bitch!” Emma yelled in her face. Out of pure fear for the woman before her, Gale lashed out. She hit Emma on her cheekbone. It felt like her eye exploded in its socket. Neal and Killian were on their partners, holding them back before anything could escalate further. Both women were shouting curses at each other. Spencer and Booth came out of Spencer’s office. “Swan! Gale! Stop your shit and get into my fucking office. The older man disappeared.   
“You too Neal, Killian.” Lieutenant Booth asked much calmer, “Bring Miss French with?” Neal nodded as made his way to Belle. 

When they entered the office, he felt his palms go clammy. Besides Spencer and Booth, who was Gale and Killian’s district, Lieutenant, the D.A and A.D.A were there as well. Neal swallowed. The two Lieutenants looked at the spectacle of their female officers. Spencer looked at Gale. He had a little chuckle on the inside. His detective broke her nose. She was already showing signs of bruising, blood still dripping into the towel she was given.

“Well, your behavior is certainly unacceptable.” Robin Locksley the D.A spoke up. Emma despised the man. From his expensive suits to his pompous, fake British-Princeton accent, his mannerisms and the smug look on his face. Both Gale and Emma ignored him. It was one thing they did have in common, neither women would answer to him.  
“What happened out there, Killian?” It was his boss, August Booth that asked the question in his quiet, authoritative voice. Emma liked him. “Tori asked Emma some questions and then tried to arrest her.” Killian was not going to sell out either women to anything other than the facts.   
“Why?” Spencer asked in his gruff voice. Killian looked at Neal. The man would have his back. “Emma was at our crime scene this morning. She knew the victim. Tori was questioning her about her involvement with the victim and the case. Emma took offense.” August looked at Spencer.   
“Fingerprints confirmed that it was Julia Pierce,” Spencer said softer for Emma’s benefit. “I called Detective Sargent Sullen myself.” Emma acknowledged the gesture. “Thank you, Sir.” Her voice was soft, different. It made Gillian look up at her. Neal saw it, but Emma ignored her.   
“Well,” Locksley started again. “We seem to have a little problem of jurisdiction. Why were you at the crime scene this morning, Detective Swan?” Emma was about to ask him, whether or not he was for fucking real when Spencer spoke up.   
“Detective Swan had a BOLO out on the victim. There were a lot of cops looking for this woman.” He nodded to Emma to continue.   
“I fell asleep on my couch with the scanner on. I was waiting for the 10-54, it came in at 6:35 this morning, I went to the scene.” Gillian frowned. She was still pissed that Emma stood her up. “You expected this? You waited for the call of this woman’s death?” It was not only an accusation. It was complete disbelief. Emma did not even attempt to defend herself. Yes, she waited for the call. As she waited for Cherise Middleton to die. She had worked so hard to prevent this. Spent many hours hunting this fuck. Only to add two more women to her murder board without being any closer to an arrest.

Tori looked at Emma with complete disbelief. “You knew she would die? And you did nothing?” Tori decided to press the knife a bit deeper. “Not only was she on my crime scene, but she also contaminated it by puking, twice. She knew who the victim was and I believe she was drunk at the time.” Neal and Killian shared a look. That was the kind of thing they would never do to each other. It shamed Killian that his partner chose this inappropriate time to be a bitch. No one seemed to care about her remark.  
“How did Miss French track down Mrs Pierce again?” Locksley asked. “She didn’t,” Emma answered before Belle could say anything. She promised the analyst that if the shit hit the fan, she would protect her, take responsibility. Now was the time for that. “Excuse me?” Spenser asked his usual antagonistic manner. Emma turned to him.   
“I called Miss French from the Middleton crime scene to ask her to run a missing person’s report for me. She did, that was how I came across Mrs Pierce. I called Detective Sargent Sullen, we shared footage, which was how we picked up the Camry. Miss French tracked the Camry from Portsmouth to Boston. Detective Sargent Sullen tracked it from Trenton. That is how we discovered the ID’s and the link to all four current murders.” There was silence in the room for a moment before Locksley asked.   
“Miss French, is that how it happened?” Belle looked nervously at Emma. She gave the girl a slight encouraging smile. “It is alright Belle, tell them the truth.” Belle was shaking until Neal placed a calming hand on her arm. She could not look at Emma. The entire morning there has been buzzing about Emma withholding evidence. She suspected as much.

“Detective Swan asked me to run a missing person’s report.” The words came out deflated. She knew once she relieved the truth that Emma would be in trouble.   
“What exactly did she ask you to search for Miss French?” Gillian spoke up this time. Emma still ignored her.   
“She asked me to run a report for missing women between the ages of thirty-two and forty from Portland to Washington DC, only women with dark hair, dark brown eyes in a high-income bracket.” She went quiet. Gillian looked at Emma. “That is, a particular request Detective.” She turned to Belle. “Then you eliminated them until you found Mrs Pierce?” Belle went pale. “No.” Gillian frowned. “No?” Belle’s voice was soft.   
“No, Detective Swan looked at the five photos I had discovered within her search parameter, she picked Mrs Pierce from the lineup.” No one spoke. Emma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. It all sounded so dramatic. 

“You picked her out of a lineup. You fucking plastered a target on her back!” Gale shouted at her with a nasal sound. “She had been missing for two days by then. She fitted right age, right color hair, and eyes. Good standing in life.” Emma yelled back. Everyone frowned at the comment.   
“You profiled him?” It was Gillian again, asking in a soft voice. “You took two cases, unrelated to this missing person and you profiled him? God Emma that is reckless. You searched for a woman from Jersey while Cherise Middleton’s killer is still out there?” 

Emma took a breath. “All four women were killed by the same person. I have physical proof now. I updated Lieutenant Spencer last night before I left, straight after I received the forensic report on the car from Jersey. He already had Julia Pierce. I was merely trying to find her alive. My partner and half the officers on shift were looking for two days with the information put together.” Her eyes burned into Gale’s with the explanation. “He is using a place where he is sure he would not be disturbed. He has access to level five water, which indicates the Harbor or South End. Detective Cassidy and the patrols were looking for a possible hold up place for Cherise Middleton. My hope was if they found the place, they would find Julia Pierce.” Neal blinked. God, she was good! He and Belle will walk away from this, and she still did not burn Spencer.

“It still does not explain why your profile is so accurate. No cop is that good!” Gale had to open her mouth again, Emma thought but said nothing. Gillian responded.   
“That is because she is withholding evidence. What evidence are you withholding, Detective Swan?” Emma felt her anger boil. It was an exceptional private conversation she had with Gillian. A muscle twitched in her cheek. When she looked directly at Gillian. The A.D.A hardly recognized the woman. There was no warmth in the green eyes, they were angry and accusing. Gillian felt her heart being crushed under the cold stare she saw there. Locksley spoke up, curiously evaluating the tension between the two women, which he did not understand. 

“Miss French, did you supply Detective Swan with any more information?” Belle was close to tears, but she nodded. “He rents cars under pseudonyms. Detective Swan gave me a few to look for.” Everyone waited for her to continue.   
“What pseudonyms?” Spencer interrupted Gillian’s questioning.   
“His last car rental was from Logan under Eddie Kemper.” Gillian’s frown deepened. “What did you find Miss French?” Belle looked at Emma. She did not know what to answer.   
“She found him under the alias Dennis Radar in Virginia. Then she found two cold cases similar to our current murders. Paula Jennings, twenty-six and Simone Lance, thirty-two. Dumped naked, faces mutilated, bodies were washed.” Emma ended. Belle was staring at the floor. “Is there more Miss French?” The D.A asked. Belle nodded.   
“Detective Swan asked me if Paula Jennings was raped. She was. Then she asked me if it happened in Hampton, it did. I do not know how she knew that without even looking at the file.” Belle felt terrible. All eyes were on Emma. She was not going to provide an explanation. 

“Do you have more evidence in these cases, Emma?” Spencer asked.   
“No Sir, you have everything I know of the May, Cole, and Middleton murders and I am sure Detective Gale will provide you with the Pierce case.” He felt relief. One thing he was certain off, his detective would not lie to him to his face. Emma could see that Gillian and Gale were not finished with her. She was bracing herself for the questions she did not want to answer.   
“Did you know about the Jennings and Lance cases in Virginia?” Gillian asked.   
“No, ma’am.” Gillian could see she was telling the truth.  
“Bullshit, how could you have known one of the victims was raped and that it happened in Hampton if you had no prior knowledge about the murders? You are in on it Swan!” Gale vindictively could not keep her opinion to herself. Emma snorted.   
“Yeah, Gale like I have the time and the means to run up and down the coast helping a maniac to hide forensic evidence. Did you eat stupid this morning?”   
Gillian questioned her again. “But you have been to Hampton Detective Swan? When were these women killed Miss French?” Belle choked out the answer. “In June of 2016 ma’am.” Gillian looked at Emma for an answer.   
“I was in Hampton in 2012, visiting a friend at the VA.” Neal went pale. James. That was why James was on her mind. He hoped no one saw his reaction. Emma did. He finally placed all the pieces together in his mind. Neal understood what she saw the first time in the Cole case. The damn victim pool! God, how did he not pick it up sooner? 

“It still does not explain your insight knowledge or the fact that you formulated a theory that the cases were linked. You passed your Lieutenants exam a few months back did you not? High profile murders like these could really boost a career.” Locksley stated. Emma saw red. “I resent your fucking implication!”   
“Emma!” A few voices cried out to stop her from putting the D.A. on his ass.

She turned to Spencer. “Is this interrogation over Sir? I have work to do.” The man said nothing. Gillian and Neal did not know about the exam and Gale looked like she was vindicated. “Detective Swan, you will answer any and all questions the D.A. has for you.” She understood his situation, she did not like it, but she understood it.   
“I do not have any further comment for the D.A, not after that.” She got ready to turn and walk out when Gillian’s voice stopped her.   
“What happened in Hampton?” Emma turned to look at her, trying to decipher what she was asking. “I’m sure Miss French can give you all the detail of the case file Miss Marsh.” Gillian shook her head.   
“No detective, I asked you, what happened in Hampton on your visit in 2012? Your partner seemed to realize something when the town was mentioned.” Emma felt as if Gillian had ripped out her heart.   
“I took personal time to visit a friend that was in the same unit as me during the war in Afghanistan.” Gillian scrutinized the information. “That still does not answer my question.” Emma took a breath. She was close to losing it.   
“As I informed you, Assistant District Attorney Marsh, it was during my private time, which indicate private.” Emma has never addressed her in such a formal manner.   
“If it is related to these cold cases or the currently open cases, it is not private any longer Detective. You are still withholding information.” The fact that Emma was so adamant not to answer what was in Gillian’s mind a simple question. Gillian continued to push. Not understanding that she was pushing Emma to a point where the blonde would shut down her emotions once more. The detective ignored the question.

Emma turned to Spencer. “I have two leads that I need to follow up on Sir. I am on my way to Philly.” She turned and opened the office door when Gillian addressed her again. “If you leave now Detective, you might as well hand in your badge!” Emma stopped. She turned around, looking at Spencer.   
“I will brief you on Monday Sir and hand over the case.” She was standing in front of Gillian. She took her hand gently like Emma would typically do. Gillian felt a little relief. Then she felt the heavy object fell into her hand. As Emma turned and walked out, Gillian looked horrified at the detective's badge in her hand.  
Spencer jumped up, grabbed the badge form a shocked Gillian. He chased after Emma. “Swan!” His voice traveled through the open office. She stopped in her tracks and turned to him.   
“You had a chance to burn me.” Emma frowned at the comment. She had no idea what he was referring to. “You could have told them that you advised me eight months ago that the cases were linked.” She shook her head.   
“Spencer, this is my shit pile, there is a lot more to this. I will never burn you Sir for my mistakes.” He held her by the shoulder, with the other hand, gave her badge back. “If anyone is going to suspend you, it will be me! Am I clear, Detective?” She gave him a half smile. “What is in Philly?” She sighed as she placed her badge back on her belt. “There are two Philly connections, he rented the Camry in Philadelphia, and two women were killed there in 2015, same M.O. But I hope to return with a list of suspects.” Spencer breathed harder. “How many women?”   
“Ten, with the two new cases Belle found in Virginia. I have not looked at the files yet, but yeah, I think it is the same guy.” Spencer looked at her for a moment.   
“What did you see that none of us had?” Emma looked at the ground.   
“It was Heather Cole’s eyes. When I looked into her eyes, I felt… it… she reminded me of someone.” Spencer looked confused again.   
“Emma there are millions of women with brown eyes, why Cole and why Pierce?” Emma could not explain it, not yet, she had to speak to…   
“I sadly saw something, Sir. I will give you a full briefing on Monday about the other cases, including these.” She held up the copied files of Jennings and Lance. He waved her to the door. She left without further ado. 

While Spencer was away, Booth took his detectives out of the office and told Gale in no uncertain terms what he thought of her behavior and comments. When he was done, he left, Killian took over from where he left off.  
Neal gave Gillian a look that told her exactly what he thought. He walked up to her and spoke soft enough in order for the pompous D.A not to hear. “If you care about her at all, never mention Hampton, ever again.” He left the office. Now that he knew what to look for, he could assist Emma in the investigation. 

Killian came up to him. “I am sorry about that mate. I really don’t know what got into Gale.” Neal gave him a smile and a pat on the back. “Was Doctor Red there this morning?”  
“Aye!” Killian said. “Did Red fuss over Emma?” Killian narrowed his eyes.   
“Aye Mate.” This made Neal burst into laughter. “Killian, it is simple, Red likes Emma. Gale likes Red, Emma is sleeping with Gillian, though her heart belongs to another.” Killian looked at him in confused, frustration.   
“Gale flipped her lid because she is jealous?” Neal smile.   
“I know, crazy isn’t it?” Killian felt relieved he had a colleague like Neal, things like that would never come between their friendship. Neal started to ask him about the Pierce murder, the two men and Belle continued where they left off after Neal assured Belle that she did not burn Emma.  
*********  
Emma had to wait almost an hour for the next flight from Logan to Philadelphia, International. She used the time to make the two calls that she dreaded to make. The first was with her ex-training officer. She was told the woman was busy. She did not leave a name or number, only a message that she would call back. The next call was answered by a friendly voice. “Mary-Margaret.” Emma frowned. She sounded cheery.   
“Mayor Nolan?” Emma questioned.   
“Yes, but please call me Mary-Margaret, Madam Mayor or Mayor Nolan sounds so formal?” Oh god, she was cheery. Emma wanted to slam her head against a brick wall.   
“Mayor Nolan, this is Detective Swan from the Boston Police Department.” The chirpy voice was back.   
“And what can I do for Boston’s finest today?” Emma tried to contain her aggravation. “Ma’am, I am actually calling with regards to your husband.” On the other end, Mary-Margaret had a little frown. “David? Why do you want to talk to me about David?” Emma exhaled. “Can you account for his ware bouts the last two weeks?”  
“What!” The voice was a bit different now. “Is David a suspect in a Boston case?” Emma pushed on.   
“Can you account for his ware bouts the last two weeks, Mrs Nolan?” This time there was some authority in Mary-Margaret’s voice.   
“Of course I can and so can half the town. David never leaves Storybrooke, now can you tell me what this is about?” Emma ran a hand through her hair.   
“Mrs Nolan, are you and your husband aware that he has a twin brother?” Mary-Margaret could felt the relief.   
“Yes, James, he contacted David after he finished his military career.” Well, at least she will not be destroying happy lives today. Emma thought.   
“Is it possible for me to speak to your husband?” Emma asked, less strained.   
“Sure, I’ll patch you through.” Her voice trailed off.   
“Thank you ma’am.” Emma’s voice was nervous. “The Sheriff might have some answers about his brother that I need.”   
“They only met once, in Portland. That was the last time David was out of town. I’m putting you through.” One thing about small towns, they were happy to share information. 

“Detective Swan, how can I help you?” Emma heard the deep voice. “Sheriff Nolan, I have a few questions about James Durant?”   
“Alright, but James died in 2013.” Emma closed her eyes. Her voice was strained with emotion. ”I know Sheriff; I was at his funeral.” David raised his brow at the statement.   
“In that case, Detective, you would know more about my brother than I did. We only met once.”  
“Yes, in Portland, about 2007?” David confirmed. It was the year Neal and James enrolled in the police academy. They stayed in Boston. She was finishing her studies, working as a waitress. James only told them later that he had a twin brother. He found out about David when he enlisted. They took a DNA sample for the DOD DNA database, and David’s DNA profile popped up. It was a horrible way to find out that you were adopted and had a twin brother.

“Did he have someone with him when you met?”   
“No”  
“Did he mention a friend?” David thought about it.   
“In actual fact he did. Swan. Are you Emma Swan?” She confirmed it. “He showed me a photo of you, then told me that he was going to marry you. Did you?”  
“Did I marry James?”   
“Yes?”  
“No David, I did not.”  
“Why? He seemed so in love with you, didn’t you love him back?” Emma smiled.   
“No David, I loved your brother, but not in a romantic way.”  
“Wrong guy?” David asked.  
“Wrong sex,” Emma answered. David was silent for a moment. “He knew, but either way it did not stop him from asking, twice.” She added.   
“What are you looking for Emma?” She let out a deep breath.   
“We have a case in Boston. Something was left at the crime scene that James had. I am trying to backtrack to see who was the last person close to James before he died. I’m on my way to see his mother.”   
“Sorry, I can’t help you. I know James died at the VA in Philly.”  
“Thank you for your time Sheriff, I appreciate it.” Emma ended the call. She dialed the familiar number again. Same response, Emma left no message. Her flight number was called, she made her way through to the gate. Towards a part of her life, she would have rather forget, forever.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma needs to dig in the past to get some answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the sexy Evil Queen makes an appearance.

**Chapter 7**

 

Emma read the files Belle gave her the previous day on the airplane. Paula Jennings was a cop in Emma’s mind.  As she looked through the record, she concluded that the Hampton Police Department felt the same.  Her file was twice as thick as that of Simone Lance. She found _Dennis Radar_ in the background of one of the crime scene photos.  Paula was raped several times, no DNA.  Simone had genital mutilation, the display of her body was horrendous.  Everyone at the Country Club knew her and her family.  She was humiliated more than the other woman, _Paula paid a higher price as well, until Cherise Middleton._ She understood the Jennings and Lance cases _. The killer craved that experience more than anything. The advancement in violence, the brutality. Yes_ , Emma understood that _but what changed between the May/Cole case and the Middleton/Pierce case?  His cool off period was getting shorter by two months._   _Was he getting close to his goal_?  Emma thought about it for a moment, then she closed the files and her eyes, letting her mind work through all the information she had. 

 

She rented a car at Philly International to drive to the VA hospital where James killed himself.  She was lucky, the Sister on duty remembered James.  Emma showed her the DMV photos they had of the suspect.  She looked at them carefully.  The Sister focused on his eyes.  “Yes.”  She said Emma could sense nervous excitement rushing through her. “You know him?”  The Sister nodded. 

“He worked here a few years. Had red hair then, Elwood Toole.”  Emma sighed. _Fuck!_   “What is wrong, Detective?”  The Sister asked worriedly. 

“It is an alias.  Ottis Elwood Toole was a serial killer in the 1970’s.”  She retook a breath.  “Did he work with James?”  The Sister frowned. 

“Now that you mention it, they used to play chess together.  Elwood was good at calming people, as you know, James was either calm or angry.  Elwood could handle him. They talked for hours.”  Emma thanked the Sister, made her way out of the hospital.  At least now she knew where this son of a bitch got his insight from. How he knew about Hampton. She knew what the game was and why it became so personal.

 

She called the number again, the same voice answered.  Emma felt the frustration.  “Please hold on a moment. She arrived back at her desk. I am transferring you.”  Emma felt her insides turn.  _God, she was not ready for this conversation_ , and then she heard the voice. 

“Doctor Mills.”  Emma was quiet for a moment.  “Hello?”

“Doctor?  You finished your studies.  I’m happy for you.”  Doctor Mills heard the voice. Her blood ran cold, she sank heavily into her chair, alerting her partner. “Emma?”  She asked softly. “Yes,” A whisper came back.

 

“How… how are you?”  The husky voice asked her. Emma knew that she was in no way prepared, mentally or physically against that voice. 

“This is not a personal call Senior Special Agent Mills.”  The words hit Regina Mills like a ton of rocks.  _What did she expect?  Hugs and puppies?_  

“Of course Officer Swan. What can I help you with in that event?”  Emma swallowed.

“It is Detective Swan. I have a case I need you to look at.”  Regina felt a bit of pride at the announcement, she knew Emma took the exam, but she left Boston before the blonde woman had the results. 

“Is the Boston PD inviting the FBI into a case?”  Emma clenched her teeth. 

“No, I am asking you, to look at a case” Regina frowned.

“Detective Swan,” She had the authority voice back. It made it easier for Emma to deal with the bitch voice rather than the sexy voice. “There are FBI profilers closer to you and might I add. There are a few I can think of that is more qualified than I.  I can give you their numbers if you like…”

“I don’t need a profiler. I need you.”  Regina went stiff, she did not want to miss intrepid Emma’s request, but her heart was beating a little faster.

“Why me Detective?”  Emma knew the question would come. 

“I have a theory. Everyone thinks that I am crazy or that I am withholding evidence. It is a shit storm already.  The problem is they only know about four victims, they already think I am off my rocker or in on it.”  Regina frowned. 

“How many victims do you have?”  Emma swallowed.

“Does it matter?”  She was stalling Regina thought. 

“It does if it crosses state lines, you know that it becomes FBI jurisdiction.”

“And I repeat, I do not need the FBI, nor do I require a profiler.  I need an unbiased opinion, someone that will see what I see and if not, I might as well hand in my badge.  I need you, Regina.” 

 

The brunette inhaled at the mention of her name from those lips.  It sounded the same, yet Emma had an edge to her voice that was not there before. And something else… “You are afraid.”  She stated flatly.  “Why are you afraid Emma?”  Emma took the phone away from her face for a moment as she tried to compose herself.  Despite the years, this woman knew her so well. 

“Please come and consult in my case, Regina?” Another shock, Emma actually asked. She said please, it was extraordinarily unusual for the proud woman.  She never asked for help.  Emma would rather kill herself than ask for help.  This concerned Regina more than anything. 

“Alright, I will have to make arrangements…”  Emma interrupted. 

“I booked you on a flight tomorrow morning at six. You need to be at the airport at five.  I will pick you up at Logan by eight.  Your return flight leaves at one. You will be back at Regan by three.  I know it is an entire day, but I need you to tell me I am not chasing a ghost.”  Regina started shaking a little.  Not only because she would see the gorgeous blonde tomorrow, but also the assertiveness in Emma’s voice. 

“Please Regina?”  And there it was once more, a plea, the fear, and uncertainty.  “Alright,” Regina answered softly.  “Thank you.”  She heard Emma say before the line went dead. 

 

Her partner Graham Hunter looked at her.  “Are you alright Regina?” He rolled his ‘R’s’ slightly. Women loved it.  Graham had his pick of women, but he always joked that Regina was his lover, the Job was his wife.  They were equally dedicated, and besides looking good together, they thought and functioned as one mind some days.  For agents that did not know them, it was eerie to watch them.  But the Agent in charge of the B.A.U knew what he had in this partnership.  There were never complications with them. 

“Yes, thank you, Graham.  I will be off now.”  He watched her as she sent one last mail and started to pack up.  Her workstation meticulous, like his own.  He knew his partner well enough to see that she was lying to him.  Something shook her up, but for now, he would let her be.

 *********

Regina was cooking supper in her pristine white kitchen.  She had an immaculate white apron on to protect her beige silk shirt and black tailored pants.  She was still in her heels, walking up and down the kitchen with ease, listening to Schubert’s unfinished symphony, No. 5, playing from the lounge.  Her mood was calm, her thoughts far from the strange request she received a few hours before.  When the knock on the door came at the expected time, she wiped her hands, took off the apron, placed it folded in the cupboard.  She smiled a bright, flawless smile when she turned to open the door with all the grace she mustered. 

 

Her eyes lit up when she looked at the woman standing before her.  They were dressed similarly. Stylish and sophisticated.  The heels the woman before her had on, was slightly higher than her own. When she made her way into the apartment, Regina looked at the movement of her calve muscles in the heels.  _Magnificent_ , she thought.  She closed the door and helped her companion with her coat. 

“Thank you.” The soft, full voice came, Regina looked into light green eyes and came up to meet the lips that were still perfectly lined after a long day.  The chased kiss did leave a tingle on her lips, as Regina took the tanned hand into her own, she led her partner to the kitchen, speaking to her over her shoulder.  “It has been too long Allison.”  She received a coy smile in return.

 

Regina returned to the cooking, Allison made herself comfortable as well.  She placed an expensive red wine on the counter after opening it to breathe, setting the delicate red wine glasses next to it.  She came to stand behind Regina, her arms reaching casually around the slim waist of the brunette.  Regina leaned slightly back.  It felt good, Allison felt good, she smelled good.  This was good.  She pushed a stray thought that dared to enter into her blissful mind away.

“How was your day Dear?” Allison leaned her chin on the silked shoulder holding the other woman slightly tighter. 

“You know, same old, same old. Smile, pretend that I have a ball of a time.”  Regina looked back at her and smirked.

“You love the lifestyle that comes with your work so stop complaining.”  Regina turned entirely in her arms and looked up at her.  Allison was a flawless beauty.  She could have been a model if fate was a bit kinder to her, but the young beauty took her looks, her wit and got herself out of the situation she grew up in, Regina admired that about her.

 

Regina leaned in for a kiss. She closed her eyes and willed her mind to stay here and now with this woman.  Allison kissed her deep.  It has been a few weeks since they saw each other.  She felt Regina moan in her mouth. It thrilled her to no end.  She never quite understood why the stunning mature woman fell for her, but holding Regina now in her arms, nothing else mattered.

*************

They met at a function they both detested.  Good ol’ Southern hospitality.  For Allison, it translated as narrow-minded Republican money talk.  For Regina, it was a chore.  Allison arrived on the arm of a massive, wealthy Texas Oil Businessman.  Regina happened to know that he was also married.  Her attention was drawn to the blonde the moment the bulk of a man drawled a, “Get us som’thing to drink dar’ing?” Complete with a smack on the rump.  Regina fumed and from the look, so did the blonde. 

 

Regina’s eyes followed the woman throughout the night. She learned that her name was Crystal.  She and her oilman was the center of attention for their gracious host, Senator Cora Mills of Georgia.  Regina was on the fourth scotch. She only needed to tolerate her mother another hour or two in order for her not to shoot any of the guests. She looked around for a moment. The beautiful blonde was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes scanned the reception area when she heard a soft purr next to her.  “Looking for me?”  Regina turned around. Her entire physic became aware of the woman so close to her.  Said woman took the drink from Regina’s hand and sipped before she handed it back.

 

Their closeness shut the room away.  Regina was only aware of her beauty, the sound of the smooth voice and those green eyes.  “Regina Mills.”  She held out a hand that was taken firmly by the delicate woman.  “Crystal.”  Came the simple reply. Regina was not ready to let go of the woman yet, so she steered her in the direction of the bar, asking her what she would like to drink. 

“Jack Daniels would be appreciated?”  Regina got them each a glass, then found a less rowdy corner to sit at.  For any onlooker, it would merely look as if the two most beautiful women at the fundraiser were in an in-depth discussion.  They made a stunning couple from the moment they met.

Regina said a reluctant goodbye as the evening came to a close.  Crystal handed her a business card. She informed Regina that she lived in DC. “Call me!” The green eyes glimmered as their hands interacted a moment too long while the business card was exchanged. The green eyes stayed with Regina. She knew it was folly, but for the first time in a long time, Regina felt something.  Cora had another opinion of the woman.  She was distraught that any man would dare to bring a female escort into her home.  Her disdain did not stop her from taking his money for her next campaign though.  Regina kept the number. She ran a background check on the woman.  No arrests, but yes, she was an escort.

 

One evening when the loneliness of her life became too much, Regina took out the number and called.  Half an hour later, Crystal was knocking on her door.  Despite the fact that Regina’s tummy did several flips when she saw the blonde beauty again, she was not too sure about how Crystal’s business worked.  They talked for most of the night, had wine and enjoyed each others company.  When the evening ended, Crystal kissed Regina on the cheek, turned away her money giving her another business card.  _Allison Chase_.  “This is pleasure Regina, not business if it is alright with you?  Please call again?  I enjoyed your company.”  Then the kiss. Soft, smooth on her mouth.  Regina parted her lips almost immediately when Allison grasped her cheek slightly, Regina thought she was going to die with desire.  For once in her life, she met someone that played the game as well as she could.  Allison awakened emotions that Regina thought she had packed away.  They both had busy schedules, for both of them to keep the relationship a secret, was essential.  They never saw each other enough.  Regina knew, however, from the moment Allison walked into her house, she was all hers for the night.

************

“You looked troubled.  What is the matter, Honey?”  Allison asked softly.  Her hand was running over Regina’s thigh. 

“I have to go to Boston early tomorrow.”  Allison gave her a look.  “Well then, we better get on with things in that case.”  Allison made her smile as she got up as took the lead to the bedroom.  Allison will make her forget, if only for the night.

***********

Emma sat with the phone in her hand for what seemed like ages after her call to Regina.  She knew it would be a difficult call. She did not expect to have old sensations the way she did.  Anger, yes, the anger she expected, but now she found herself missing the woman almost as much as she did that first year.  She swiped a tear away angrily.  Her emotions were in upheaval. It was not going to get better with the next conversation.

 

She pulled the rental car into the familiar driveway before she could make it to the front door, it opened, Emma was enveloped in a big motherly hug.  Mrs Durant was a short but a sturdy woman, when she hugged you, you knew you were embraced.  It made Emma smile.  Jessica Durant was the mother that Emma never had.  She met the woman when, on their second visit Stateside, James discovered that Neal was a runaway and Emma an orphan. He invited them to spend their leave with him. His mother was only too accommodating.  It became a kind of tradition with them that during the holidays, Emma and Neal would bring James from Boston. They would spend a few days with Jessica.  It has been a long time since then…

 

“Emma!  Emma.”  Her arms were wrapped around the slender frame, Emma hugged the woman back by the shoulders. She could hear the woman sniff against her jacket, she held on a bit tighter.  When Jessica finally pulled away. She scolded Emma.  “You are too thin. Do you and Neal ever take care of yourselves? And what happened to your face?”  Emma smiled. Took off the sunglasses.  Jessica took off where they last ended.  Not as if six years of silence lay between them. 

“Hello, Ma,”  Emma said with her shy smile she carried these days.  Inwardly Jessica was relieved.  She knew that this day would come, a day that Emma wanted answers, and she was expecting the detective to address her as Mrs Durant.  Emma’s warm hello made her at ease.  _Perhaps, this will go better than what she hoped for_.

 

Emma was overwhelmed with coffee and biscuits in the home that has barely changed in the last ten years. She sat enjoying the warmth of her hostess and the home. She, Neal and James would spend hours in the living room, playing games, eating and fill the house with the laughter of young people.  Jessica always there to feed them.  Emma remembers the two boys stuffing themselves and wondering how they could be hungry again an hour later.  It made her smile for a moment, Jessica observed it. 

“So what brings you by my girl?”  Emma looked at the faint blue eyes, the graying hair.  Jessica still had all the warmth of a mother. 

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I would pop in,”  Emma said as she took a sip of coffee.  Jessica made it the way she used to drink it when she was young, with hot chocolate, cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top.  These days she drank it black, bitter and mostly cold, like her life. 

“Emma?”  She questioned. “You are driving a rental. It looks like you haven't slept in days. You have a worried look, a bruised face.  You flew down from Boston to see me, so what is it you need?”  Jessica held her breath.  Emma sat her coffee down. She gave the woman a pained look.  She did not want to hurt this woman in any way, but now it might be unavoidable.  Emma let out a breath.

 

“I am looking for a man that worked at the VA where James was, here in Philly.”

“Go on?”  Jessica encouraged.  Emma took the photos out and handed them to James’s mother.  She smiled when she looked at them.  “This is Robbie.  Always changing his look, that one.  Never settling down.”  Emma tried to hide her shock.  She swallowed. 

“Jessica, you know him?”

She nodded.  Emma frowned.  “How often do you see him?”  Jessica thought about the question.  “Not too often.  He is a long haul truck driver.  He comes and sees me every time he is in Philly.  It has been a while.”  Emma’s heart was beating fast in her chest.  “But Emma he never worked at the VA, he was a patient like James.  They helped each other through a lot of things.”  Emma could hardly breathe.  “Robbie Yates?”  She asked carefully.  Jessica beamed.  “Yes, so you know about him?”  The older woman faltered a bit.  “I thought you broke off all contact with James.”  She looked down.  “I was surprised to see you at the funeral.”  Emma swallowed.  She almost did not go, but it was a day that was not about James, it was about Jessica.  She wanted to be there for the woman that sent her a care package for four years of her life when she needed it the most.  She still had every letter Jessica wrote her.  The woman that became known to her and Neal as _Ma_ , supported them without question during their deployment. 

 

“Ma…”  Emma got tears in her eyes. She did not know what to say.  Jessica waved her off.  “I always thought that you would come back, with questions.”  Emma turned her head in curiosity.  Jessica got up. She strolled over to a chest of drawers.  She took several items out and handed them to Emma.  The top one was addressed to Jessica.  James’s neat writing simply _Ma_.

 

Emma looked nervously at Jessica.  “Please my girl, read it?”  Emma opened the letter carefully. She knew what she held in her hand by the end of the first paragraph.  It was James’s suicide letter.  It was a simple explanation that his life was wrong. That he did not know why he only knew he was hurting people he loved and therefore decided to end it.  He wrote a long piece to his mother telling her about his love for her, his appreciation for the things she did for him, how sorry he was to leave her alone, but assured her that it was for the best.  The last paragraph held a note:  “Please forgive Emma, it is not her fault that she is not around any longer.  Ma, I hurt her, I hurt her in a bad way, I do not expect her ever to forgive me.  Only know that her absence is my fault, not yours.”

 

Emma did not realize she was crying or that Jessica came to sit by her, rubbing her back slowly while she read James’s last words.  Now the older woman pulled her into a protective hug and let her girl cried.  Emma remembered the last time she cried like this.  It was the year after she and James had their fallout.  The two worst days of her life.  She cried for a week, every night she crawled into her empty bed, she cried.  Every night a little piece of her stayed behind until she became what she was now.  This emotionless, cold shadow of the girl that Jessica once knew.

 

When Emma started to open the second letter, addressed to her, Jessica got up to make them more coffee, leaving the girl to deal with the message alone.  It has been five years since James died.  The letter was still sealed.  In it, he asked Emma forgiveness.  He told her how much he loved her, how much he cared. In his deranged state of anger and grief, he forgot that she did not have the same feelings.  He apologized, Emma could see a few smear marks in the letter.  He was crying as he was writing it.  Emma closed the letter and looked up at the ceiling, breathing hard, willing her emotions to come under control.  When Jessica came back, she was grateful for the sweet drink.  They sat in silence for a while.

 

“Did James ever tell you what happened between us?”  Jessica shook her head.  “He only told me he proposed again and you said no, again.  It was not until I read the letter that I thought there might be more to it.  Do you want to talk about it?”  Emma shook her head. “Noooo.”  Jessica let her be, but she needed some answers.

“Why did you say no?  I thought you loved him?”  Emma swallowed her tears and her memories away.  “I did love him, very much.  Only not like that.”  Her voice trailed off. 

“Was it Neal?”  Emma got a little laugh out. 

“No, not Neal.”  Jessica nodded.  She could not think of Emma ever mentioning anyone else and decided that it was not her business. 

“Did he really hurt you?”  Emma burst into tears. It gave Jessica her answer.  Emma has always been reliable, for her girl to cry like this, it had to have been something really awful.  She took the young woman into her arms and held her.  There were no words.  She kept the blonde close to her until the sobbing ended. 

 

“I’m sorry,”  Emma said in a strained hoarse voice, still thick with sorrow. 

“Don’t be my girl. I never knew it was as bad.  I apologize….”  Emma placed a finger on her lips. 

“You have nothing to apologize for Ma.”  She held the letter up. “James gave me his apology. I want you to know, I did forgive him.  It took a long time, but I did forgive him.” 

Jessica held Emma’s cheek and wiped a residual tear away.  Her breathing was a bit better.  She looked down to the rest of the things Jessica gave her.  There were photos.  The smiling faces of her standing between Neal and James in their gear, the desert sun beating down on them.  Others were of them playing in the snow in the backyard of this house, always the three of them together.  The last photo was of James and _Robbie_.  Emma looked at him long and hard. 

“It was taken two years before James died.”  Emma nodded.  Long before the monster was born.  Then she remembered the date and why her mind could not leave it.  21 June 2013.  The day James died.  It was his trigger.  A year later on the first anniversary of James’s death, the suspect killed his first victim, Mandy Wait. 

 

She handed Jessica the two envelopes and the photos back.  “Do you mind if I take a snap of this one with my phone?”  Jessica smiled at her and handed her the letter with _Emma_ written on it,  to the blonde. 

“Go ahead.”  Emma placed the photograph in good light making sure she got the shot perfect.  She snapped another one ensuring she had it.  “James had more things, photos, nick-nacks, the ring… I must have packed it away.  I cannot find it.”

“Thank you. Are you sure you do not want to keep this letter?”  Jessica shook her head.  “Does Robbie ever call you?”  She knew it was a shot in the dark.  Jessica got up. She placed her letter and the photos back in the drawer.  She took out a scrap of paper that was stuck in her telephone book. 

“Here, this is Robbie’s number.”  Emma looked at the paper in shock.  It was not Jessica’s handwriting.  “He wrote this down for you?”  Jessica indicated yes with a frown.  Emma grabbed her tattered satchel. Took out an evidence bag.  She let the piece of paper drop into the bag, and she sealed it.  The action made Jessica nervous.

“How long ago did he give it to you?”  Jessica thought back. 

“A few years ago.  I have his number on my cell phone now.  He is so busy, he never answers, but calls me back a day or so later.”  Emma did not know what to do.  She stood up and took Jessica in her arms. 

“Ma, this man is not a good man.  If he calls or visits again, you need to let me know please?”  Jessica pulled away from her, eyes full of questions.  “Emma, you are scaring me.”  The soft look Emma gave her, reassured her a little.  “Please, Ma?  Call me?”  Jessica nodded.  “Where is your phone?”  Jessica handed it to Emma. She typed in her and Neal’s numbers as well as the station number. 

“If he calls, and neither Neal nor I answer, call the station?”  Jessica nodded.  “And Ma, you can call me anytime you like, alright?”  This time it was the older woman’s eyes that were filled with tears.  “I will Emma.  Will all this help?”  Emma gave her a sad smile.  “More than what you could ever imagine Ma.”

 

The woman invited Emma to stay for supper, but Emma declined due to the early meeting with Regina.  She needed to get back to Boston.  Emma, however, did promise to visit soon,  she intended to keep the promise.  Emma slept during the two-hour flight and walked into her apartment close to seven.  She had no idea that when she planned to go and talk to Jessica Durant that she would return with a full face photo, perhaps his prints, his handwriting, and a phone number.  She called Neal.  “Hey, I went to see Ma.”  Neal was quiet on the other side.  At the time Emma was in Philly, he placed a few things together with the help of Killian and Belle. Even with the additional names and his new insight, they could not figure out what Emma saw.  There was no pattern. “I am sorry Emma, I should have listened to you.”  She gave a little-strained laugh.  “Yeah, I know.”  Neal sighed.  “Emma, James is dead.”

“Yeah, Neal I know, we went to his funeral together.”  Neal breathed heavy.  “Do you have a suspect?” 

“I do now.”  She informed him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The who, the what and the why? And Regina!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regin and Emma discuss the cases, but nothing too graphic.

**Chapter 8**

 

Emma was scanning the crowd as the flight from Regan was announced.  If he was watching them, she would soon find out.  She tried several times to calm herself to no avail. She had no idea how this day would end, the uncertainty of that alone was eating at her.  Emma stood to the side, resting her lean frame against a pillar, arms crossed, scanning the multitude of people from behind her shades.

Then she emerged through the door. Her hair was shorter with a slight auburn tint. It suited her.  Regina was dressed as always, to perfection. From her vantage point, Emma could see several men turning to look at her.  Regina was breathtaking in a black, pencil skirt suit, a matching silk blouse, a scarlet red jacket and scarf to deal with the colder weather.  She had knee high boots on with thick stockings.  Emma felt her eyes burn on the woman who was starting to look around for the blonde. _Beautiful_ , Emma thought as emotions rushed through her.  A pang of loss, sadness, lots of regrets.  Emma, however, kept herself at the back where she could watch for anyone approaching Regina or observing her.  As the Agent got closer to the spot Emma occupied, she felt her heart beat faster.

 

Regina walked pass her.  It told Emma a lot of things about herself.  She turned and openly stared at Regina’s _oh so fantastic ass_. Emma shook herself out of the trance of the magnificent woman. She caught up from behind.  “Agent Mills.”  Her voice was still hoarse from the crying the day before. She did not have a lot of sleep either.  Regina turned as she heard her name coming face to face with the blonde.  She looked at Emma for any recognition, besides the blonde hair, there was none.  No smile, no bright green eyes, no red leather jacket.  She was dressed in thick cargo pants and a seaman’s jacket.  All black.  Regina was taken aback a bit.  “Emma?”  She received a forced smile. 

“May I take that for you?”  Emma indicated to the roller suitcase Regina had in her hands.  “Sure.”  She said as she pushed the case towards Emma, not knowing what else to say.  “The car is this way.”  Emma pointed in a direction starting to walk off.  Her phone rang.  It was Gillian.  She killed the call.  When Emma stopped in front of the big BPD cruiser, she held the door open and gave Regina a hand to get into the vehicle with her heeled boots and skirt.  _At least her manners were still impeccable_.  Regina thought at the only mannerism she has recognized.  The touch of their hands, however brief sent a shiver up Regina’s spine.

 

Everything about Emma seemed different.  Her strides were longer, more confident, her clothes were still distasteful but different.  Regina remembered her in blue jeans, bright color shirts, and jackets.  Black was her thing.  The color made Emma look pale and brooding. Her eyeliner was too thick and her lipstick too dark for the pale complexion. Regina observed from her peripheral vision. They drove the short distance in silence.  Emma kept on looking in the mirrors as if she expected them to be followed, as they made their way to the station.  Emma parked helped Regina out of the cruiser and entered the station as if she owned it. Regina sensed curious looks on her.  A young officer approached them. 

“Here you go, Detective.”  He handed her a tray with two cups and a paper bag. 

“Thank you, Jennings, I appreciate it.”  As they made their way into the elevator, Regina commented dryly. 

“Officer Jennings is in love with you,” Emma smirked.  “Yeah, I know.”  Regina turned to look at her. Even this close, Regina’s awareness confirmed the difference in Emma.  “What happened to your face?” Regina asked, curiously observing the swollen, purple cheek. Regina took note of Emma’s hands.  There was no bruising there.  _Did she not fight back? It was unlike Emma to take a hit, without defending herself_.

“Difference in opinion.”  Was all she offered up as an explanation.

 

They made their way through the open plan to the same desk Emma occupied four years before.  She placed the tray and bag on the desk taking off her jacket.  She turned to help Regina out of her red one. She placed it on a hanger and the coat rack standing nearby.  Regina looked at her in surprise.  Emma handed her one of the cups. 

“It is herbal tea. I was not too sure what you drink these days, I got you a vegan breakfast, I did not know if you had time to eat?”  She didn’t, despite the hours she got up, Allison still made her late by getting into the shower with her.  Their lovemaking filled with passion and need.  It would be a while before they would see each other again.  “Thank you,” Regina replied as she took the tea. The warm liquid filled her.  She could see from Emma’s open cup that her coffee was black, the blonde added no sugar to it.  Instead of drinking it, she was getting boards and markers together to set up her case for Regina. 

 

On her return, she took off her shades looking into Regina’s dark eyes for the first time. 

“Thank you again for coming.”  Regina was too transfixed on the clear green eyes to respond immediately.  There were sadness and reservation in the once bright eyes.  _Did I do that?_   Regina wondered, then started to speculate at the rest of Emma’s demeanor.  “You’re welcome, Emma.”  The husky voice ripped through Emma at hearing her name from those lips.  She cursed herself that the honey voice could still affect her so much.  She pushed everything down, numbing herself. Regina could literary feel Emma’s walls go up.  “Where would you like me to start Agent Mills?”  Regina felt the formality stab her in the gut.  “The beginning, preferably.”  She snapped back. 

“The beginning of the story and the beginning of my case are two different starting points.”  Her voice was cool.  “Fine, start with the first victim,” Regina answered annoyed.

 

Emma nodded. Took a stack of files from her desk.  She opened Mandy Wait’s first.  She placed the picture of how her body was found on the board. 

“To clarify, Miss Swan?  You want me to scrutinize your case?”  Emma nodded ignoring Regina’s sudden change in tone.  She understood.  She will supply Regina with the facts only. 

“Mandy Wait, seventeen-year-old white female. 5”4 feet, 160 pounds, runaway orphan who turned to prostitution.  She was found in Bethesda, Rock Creek Park on 21 June 2014.  The body was displayed, open, naked, washed.  No trace evidence was found on the body, other than the ground she laid on.  Her face was mutilated, hesitant low cuts, most likely a small knife, no more than four inches.  She was eventually strangled.  Her body was moved, her hair was cut significantly shorter. Killed by a right-handed person.”  Facts.  Emma stopped and placed the second photo under Mandy’s.

 

“Catherine Sterling.  Her body was discovered a day later in Meridian Hill Park. Same body type and height.  Body dump was less than two miles apart. She sustained far more injuries to her face. A larger knife was used, eight to nine inches. She had bruising to her genitalia as if he kicked her several times.  She bled out. Her throat was cut.  Killed by a left-handed person.”

 

Regina interrupted her.  “You think these were his first two victims and that it is the same person?”  Emma nodded. “This was not planned, almost as if he followed his instinct. Mandy’s kill was sloppy. Catherin’s was overkill.  He planned better the next time.  His M.O. became more sophisticated.” Regina narrowed her eyes at the explanation.  “What was the motive?”  Her eyes were sad when she answered Regina, “I will show you the motive last.”  The agent nodded and indicated for Emma to continue as she drank the last of her tea.

 

The next photo went up. “Kimberly Downs, twenty-three, she was a part-time student at the St. Joseph University.  Her body was found washed, dumped, displayed and mutilated in Montgomery Lorimer Park, laying backwards over a log. Her face had deep cuts. She was abducted from the university six days prior. A right-handed person with what seemed to be a hunting knife killed her. Her throat was slid.”

“Timescale?”  Regina asked where she was leaning against Emma’s desk looking at the photos, listening to the descriptions. “A year and four months between the first two and second,” Emma answered. 

“The distance of dumping sites?”  Emma sighed

“A hundred and seventy-five miles.”  Regina nodded, Emma continued.

 

“Constance Grace thirty-one.  Her body was found four days after Kimberly.  She was missing for six days.  Her body was discovered in Fairmount Park.  Lacerations on her face were deep and wide, perhaps a combat knife.  Her throat was cut.” 

“And let me guess?  Killed by a left-handed person?”  Regina asked, sarcasm dripping from the husky voice.  Emma swallowed.  “Yes, the next two are of more importance.”  Regina nodded for her to continue. Already feeling as if Emma was wasting her time.

 

“I only received the files on these two yesterday.  His cool off period was ten months.”  She placed the photo up.  “Paula Jennings twenty-six, she was a clerk at the Hampton Police Department.”  Regina caught her breath.  “Hampton?”  Emma nodded.

“She was found in the river a mile from the police station after she was missing for five days.  She was repeatedly raped over the course of her capture.  The body was washed, dumped and displayed over a fallen tree.  Her virginal tract was douched.  She was cut up beyond recognition with a Khichuri most likely. Cause of death Hypovolemic Shock.”  Regina closed her eyes.  She knew they had seen terrible things in their lives, but certain things still got to her.

 

“Simone Lance was found four days later. She was a Psychologist at the McGuire Veteran Hospital in Richmond.”  Regina raised an eyebrow.  She watched Emma for a moment and became aware of the change in her body language.  She was stiff and nervous.  Regina got an inkling on the reason why everyone thought Emma was chasing after something that was not there.  “You said you received these files only yesterday?” 

“Yes, I read them on the plane to Philly.”  Regina tensed. 

“You went to Philadelphia yesterday?”  Regina tried to calm herself. She got up, straighten a pretend crease in her skirt looking directly at Emma. 

“Emma I know you, and I have issues, I am sorry for what happened to you.  But this….”  She pointed to the board.  “What are you doing?  What are you doing to yourself?  Chasing a dead man?”  Emma felt the sting in her words.  She knew how it looked.  “God Emma, a rookie would know better.  Different methods of killing, different weapons, different ages of the victims. As for his hunting and dumping ground, god, Emma! Killers have a comfort zone! This area is huge.”  Emma sat down deflated. Regina came to stand before her.  She softly took Emma’s chin in her hand, forcing the green eyes to meet hers. The touch was electric.  “Emma, what happened was horrible. But you need to move on Darling?” The brown eyes were pleading. Her heart ached for Emma as much as it did after that weekend in Hampton. Regina wiped an isolated tear from Emma’s cheek. Every thought was torture for both women.  Regina could feel her heart beat fast.  Emma felt like giving in, giving up. To let her head fall into Regina’s touch.  To stay there forever. She finally looked up.  Her green eyes were pleading.

 

“There is more Regina. Please hear me out?”  The dark woman looked at her.  The changes were subtle after their visit to Hampton to see James.  Emma laughed a little less. She had sadness in her eyes that would not go away.  She had anger that was almost out of control. Eventually, Regina could not stand the mood swings.  She told Emma to get herself into therapy.  Their parting was… almost incomplete.  They had words, Emma packed up her things and left.  They never spoke of it again.  Regina thought she would get over it, but right now the older woman looked at the situation, it felt that six years later, Emma was still that broken woman that cried in her arms.  She sighed as she sat back down.  “Alright, carry on Dear.” Emma gave her a relieved smile taking up her place in front of the board again.

 

“Simone Lance’s face was ripped apart with some form of serrated knife.  She was found displayed on the golf course at the country club where she and her family were members.  She had severe genital mutilation. She was also left to bleed out.”

Regina inhaled deeply.  “So he humiliated and made these women suffer more than the others?”  Emma nodded.  Her green eyes were dark with anger.  “So where do you fit into this mess, Miss Swan?”  Emma gave her the faintest of smiles.  The way Regina said her name always sounded like a reprimand, rather than addressing her.

 

“The next case. Cool off was ten months.  Melissa May twenty-eight, Paralegal from Brooklyn, New York. Same M.O, washed, naked, dumped.  Only this time he dumps her in an alley over a dustbin in Boston.  She was missing for six days.  She was cut up with a large spear pointed knife. Cause of death was strangulation.  Four days later we find Heather Cole thirty-four, same M.O.  She was cut with a razor sharp, straight knife with a partially serrated edge. Most likely a large combat knife.  She was abducted two days after Melissa went missing in Washington, DC, she worked for the FBI as a Linguist. Her body was dumped in Boston, over a dumpster.  Her hair was cut shorter.”

 

Regina started to have an uneasiness creeping up on her.  “There is something you are not telling me?”  Emma looked up.  “There is a lot more.”  She pasted the next picture on the board.  “Cherise Middleton thirty-two.  Air Hostess, disappeared ten days ago from Portsmouth International Airport.  She was beaten during her captivity, raped several times. She was stabbed in the face, nicking the carotid artery. It was likely to be a hunting knife. She died of repertory impairment. She was raped after death as well.  Her body was found naked, subsequently dumped at a scrap metal yard, down the road, walking distance from the station.”  Regina nodded. Emma carried on.  “Julia Pierce, forty, a charity fundraiser from Trenton, New Jersey, found four days after Cherise.

As you can see, he ripped her face off.  I have not read the M.E. report yet, but I am sure she suffocated.  This was new.”  She placed the photo of Julia’s mutilated genitalia with the cut off phallus up for Regina to see.  “She was dumped in an alley displayed on trash, between two dumpsters.”

 

Regina’s breathing was uneven.  Emma knew what she was thinking.  She watched as the profiler started to put the pieces together.  “Do you have a pattern?”  Emma nodded and moved the board away.  She wrote their ages on the board. The first kills under the second.

17, 22, 26, 28, 32

23, 28, 32, 34, 40.

“They all differed six years in age?” Regina questioned.

“There is more.  All these women,” Emma pointed to the top row, “Are blonde with green eyes.  The others are dark-haired, from black to dark brown with dark brown eyes.  The blondes were killed by a right-handed person and the brunettes by a left-handed person. All the blondes were either orphans or foster children, and all the brunettes came from well-established families with money and political connections.”

Regina looked at her in shock.  Sure, there were similarities.  But it could not be, it could not be.  Emma did not even tell Neal that detail. She looked up at Emma with all the questions in her eyes. 

“James is dead Emma.  It was only the three of us.”  _Is her dick bigger than mine?_   “God Emma, did you tell someone?”  The blonde shook her head.  “It gets worse.”  Regina stopped the pacing that she started.  “How the fuck can it get worse?”  Emma stepped to the third board.  “Remembered that I told you Mandy, the first victim’s hair was cut and Heather Cole?”  Regina indicated a yes. Emma flipped the whiteboard after she placed several pictures on it.  “This is what they looked like alive. The first two and the last two pictures, you know. You are left-handed, and I am right-handed”

 

Regina sat shocked.  She struggled to breathe, Emma gave her a bottle of water.

“Ijo de puta!”  She said as she looked at the ten victims, stuck between pictures of herself and Emma.  The first two when they were young, seventeen and twenty-three.  Emma was in the Marines. She had a brush cut.  Mandy’s autopsy photo had the same cut.  The other two were more recent.  Regina, with her hair shorter and dark brown rather than black.  The ten photosgraphs between were eerie replicas of themselves over the years.

“Jesus fuck Emma!”  Regina let out, Emma smirked.

“Senior Special Agent Mills!  Such profanities will not be allowed!”  Regina looked at Emma as if she had lost it completely.  Then she let out a breath and sank into a chair. Typical Emma to make a joke when everything was so serious.

“You have had some time to wrap your mind around it.”  Emma came to sit with her, the desk still between them. 

“Yes, but it does not make it any easier.  I cried when I received the Paula Jennings report. So now you have a motive.  He seeks out women that not only look like us but have the same build and social-economic backgrounds.  These women were not killed because of who they were. They were killed because they looked like us.  He hunts for them. He picks the perfect victim to replay his fantasy.”

“How much time do we have?”

“If he keeps to his schedule, eight months, probably less.”  Regina giggled, considerably unlike her. Her dark hair waved as she shook her head.  “No, now, before I need to go to the Airport?”  Emma frowned. “Oh, two hours.”  Regina got up, grabbed her coat.  “I need a drink, Miss Swan, lead the way, please?

 

Emma quickly cleared all the boards and locked, the files in her desk drawer before she met Regina outside.  It was a short distance to a favorite cop bar, as the two women made their way to the lower end of the bar where they could talk, several cops cleared out.  “Was it something I said?”  Regina asked dryly.  Emma gave her a warm smile. 

“No, it’s me, my reputation is a bit, how shall I put it, tainted?”  Regina crooked her head.  “Since when do you speak so eloquently?”

“Oh, no need to consider yourself, Agent Mills, I on occasion revert back to my tactless profanities.”  Regina started to laugh.  It sounded so unlike Emma, and yet, it was the kind of thing Regina expected from her rookie partner.

 

Emma ordered them both a double Jack, which they nearly downed.  The stress in Regina’s physic eased.  “Another or would you prefer wine?” Regina smiled, strange what they remembered about each other’s habits. 

“No, I need another after your show and tell.”  Emma nodded and ordered another whiskey and a beer.

 

Regina tucked a twist of hair behind her ear.  “So Detective Swan.  Do you have a suspect?”  Emma swallowed from her beer. 

“I do.”  She took out the latest DMV photo she got. “Meet, Elwood Toole, Donald Harvey, Dennis Radar, Eddie Kemper, and Robbie Yates.”  Regina picked up the photos. She looked at it and then back to Emma.

“Really?”  Emma almost choked on her beer, it was usually her line.

“So who is he now and who is his next victim?”  Emma swallowed, she looked down.  When she looked back up, Regina could clearly see the fear in her eyes.  She placed her hand over Regina’s, and for a moment the brunette went stiff, then she relaxed.  There was a comfort in Emma’s warm hand that Regina missed terribly, the realization of how much, only struck her now.

 

“Regina, I have someone in my life that will fit into his victim pool.  I am going to ask the D.A to place her in protective custody.  Even if you have someone that does not look like me, I suggest you do the same.  His last victims are our ages.  So I only see two options.  Either the two of us or the women in our lives.”  Emma did not let go of Regina’s hand. The Agent picked up that Emma said, _the women in our lives_ rather _than the women that we love_.  Regina cleared her throat.  “How does James fit into this?”  Emma let go of the hand to pick up her beer again.  She closed her eyes for a moment. This was going to be the hardest part of the investigation.

“I only found out yesterday.  Elwood Toole worked at the VA in Philly where James died.  Elwood was a caretaker for James. They would play chess together and talk for hours.  Robbie Yates is still in contact with Jessica Durant. He went to James’s funeral.  Dennis Radar was a long distance courier for the Police in Hampton.  Donald Harvey and Eddie Kemper are long distance Uber drivers.”  Regina shook her head.  “How the hell did you put all of this together?”  Emma shrugged.

 

“And your profile?”  Regina was interested to hear.  Emma started.  “Since the first name he used for employment was Elwood Toole, I think he identified with Ottis Toole’s childhood.  He could be an orphan as well or have a dysfunctional childhood. So when he meets James and hears his story, of his own adoption, the fact that his twin was kept by his birth mother and not him… They form a bond.  In time, you and I get dragged into it, after Hampton. James still has his illusion of a relationship with me. Of what I meant to him.  He shares everything with Elwood, who experience the rejection and abandonment. Vicariously living through James.  Then James dies.  He sees Neal and me at the funeral. His anger escalates that James could be so easily replaced. His fantasy takes on a life of its own. A year later, on the anniversary of James’ death, he kills Mandy Wait.  He is inexperienced and ill-planned.  He almost overkills Catherin Sterling.  Between the kills, he honed his skills. He formulated a plan. He falls deeper into his delusion. Picking his victims, studying them.  Making sure that he gets every aspect of it correct.  The next two pairs are better executed.  He chooses his victims carefully.  He probably stalks the victims for months in advance of the murder. I think the fantasy he is playing out is that weekend in Trenton…” Emma swallowed hard.

 

“That would be consistent with the murders of Paula Jennings and Simone Lance.  The fact that he tortured them more.” Regina confirmed Emma’s theory with sadness in her voice.  Emma gave her a faint smile as she continued.

“When he is ready, he dumps them in Boston, announcing to me that here I am! I see what no one else wants to see, not the murders, but the victims. His violence is escalating fast as is his serial killer names.  I would not be surprised if the next time we hear from him that he is Gary Ridgway.”

Regina nodded her agreement.  “On Monday, you are going to leave this bombshell on Spencer’s and Lockley’s desks, they will call us in?”

“Sure, if you think I have a case.  Do I have a case, Agent Mills?” Regina sat back and the perfect makeup dark eyes flashed over Emma.  “Yes, Detective, you most certainly have a case.”

 

Emma dropped Regina off at the airport as promised.  She was half relieved that they met again under work circumstances.  She handled Regina’s presence better.  But now she needed a friend.  She called Neal. He said he would meet her at their local.  _Good_ , she thought, she would drop off the cruiser and walk to the bar, Neal could take her drunk butt home.  Tomorrow would be her last day of freedom.  After that she will have every damn cop in Boston, poking into her life to find this bastard.  _Oh, the joy!_ She thought.

 

Neal picked up on her mood the moment he said _hi_.  He looked her over.  She was a few drinks ahead of him.  He had so many questions. He wanted to know what happened in Philly.  He wanted to know if she had a case, who she consulted, but she was clearly not in the mood to talk shop.  He ordered a beer and sat next to her.  “You look like shit Swan.”  She smirked. “Why thank you, sir!”  He rolled his eyes at her. 

“Your rookie struck out last night.”  For a moment she was confused, she thought he spoke of Jennings.  Then she sighed, she saw it on the news while she was waiting for Regina at the airport.

“God, yes! Can you believe it?”  Her rookie defenseman for the Boston Bruins missed three blocks.  The Goalkeeper saved his ass.  They talked hockey for most of the night while Emma drank.  She received a text from Will, it merely said: _No tail_.  She texted him back with _thanks_.

 

It was after eight when Gillian called. Emma answered this time.  She was drunk enough to deal with the woman now.  “Yeah?”

Gillian swallowed. “Are you alright Emma?” 

“Really?  That is your question?”  She spoke too loud, but with no animosity. 

“You are drunk.  Where are you?”  Emma looked around her. 

“I have absolutely no fucking idea.”  Gillian got a bit panicked.  Emma handed the phone to Neal.  “She’s with me. I’m taking her home for the night.”  Gillian felt the relief.  She had been trying to get hold of the blonde from the moment she was alone. 

“Is she alright?”  She asked Neal strained. 

“Of course not!” Neal yelled at her.  “She is drunk off her ass, it should tell you exactly how pissed we still are with you!”  He killed the call, Emma giggled.

“Hanging up on the A.D.A, why Detective what a bold move!” He shook his head, the dimples on the side of his smile lit up.  He looked like such a boy when they did. 

 

Emma was leaning against the door looking at him.  She moved forward to touch his face.  Running a soft finger on those deep laugh lines.  “You know I love you, right?”  Neal smiled deeper. 

“Yes, Emma I know that you love me.”  She shook her head with enthusiasm.

“Noooo, I mean I really love you!”  He smirked.  She was drunk off her ass. 

“I know Emma.”  She sat back against the seat when she spoke again. She sounded more sober, timid but serious.  “I need you to know that Neal, that I love you.  I have always loved you, if I were straight, I would marry you and have your babies.”  He took his eyes off the road and was met with her serious face. 

“Thank you Em, that means a lot to me.”  And it did, it was the way he has always felt about Emma.  She was not only his best friend but the only woman he would ever marry.  Once Emma was in your heart, everyone came up short.  It was his curse, to be with her, have her love every day and yet never having her at all.  “What brought that on?”  He asked, not wanting to dwell on the subject. 

 

Emma placed her hands in her hair.  “Regina.”  She said.  “Regina?”  He yelled out and nearly slammed on the brakes. “Regina?  What the fuck Swan?”  She turned her head to look at him.  “She is sooo fucking hot!”  Emma said the hot slowly and placed some emphasis on the _t_.  “Oh, god no, no Em you didn’t?” She sat up. 

“Didn’t what?”  He looked angry.  “You didn’t fuck her did you?”  She smiled at his concern. 

“Oh yes, I fucked her!   Made her scream my name.”  Neal looked shocked.  “Well, at least in my imagination for five minutes on my desk.”  Neal felt the relief. 

“You are such a slut Swan!” She smiled at him. Then place one hand and her head on his arm.  “But she looked so fucking good, and her ass, god her ass is perfect.” Neal got his worried frown on.  He really did not want to pick up the pieces left by Regina again. 

“So, she was the one you consulted?”  Emma sighed.  “Yes.”  Neal waited.  “She says I have a case.”  Neal only nodded.  He knew that for Emma to ask for help in the first place was a big deal, but to ask Regina for help was huge. If the FBI Agent agreed with Emma, there was more to Emma’s theory. 

“How bad is it?”  He asked slowly and softly.  Emma did not want to think about it.

“It is fucking bad Neal.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma has to reveal her past.  
> Gillian receives a very big surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay, been hectic at work  
> If there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, Grammerly broke.

**Chapter 9**

Emma lay on her back on Neal’s couch. Her one arm stuck under her head, her long legs folded up. Her toes were curling into the base of the armrest.  She had her black tank top on with a pair of black boxers.  She was taking a pained inventory of her life.  From the day that she met James and Neal.  She liked James, but it was Neal that she made the connection with.  Perhaps it was because he lived on the streets for a while, escaping his abusive father or because like her, he never received post or phone calls.  They gravitated towards each other and became the family to each other that neither ever had.  He understood far quicker than James. That the only thing she would ever offer him was friendship and that it was already a lot.

 

She ran her hand lazy over her boxers.  It made her laugh.  She had a drawer in Neal’s apartment and two hangers.  One with a suit for court, one with regular work clothes.  The drawer held under ware and socks.  She had a hairbrush and a toothbrush in his bathroom. Some other stuff, all marked _Emma_.  It was easier to explain her things in his apartment to a girlfriend because it was marked.  As if they were roommates.  She has been sleeping with Gillian for three years. She did not have clothes there.  What was worse was that Neal had the same at her place.  Gillian did not even have a toothbrush at Emma’s. To top it, under her red leather jacket hung a silk shirt that still smelled like Regina.  Emma closed her eyes.  A tear made its way down one side of her eye.  She knew she would only lie to herself if she said she did not love the woman.  She never stopped.  Yes, she was angry and hurt, but someone like Regina… god, she was one of a kind.  Emma should have known that four years of separation would do nothing to stop her heart from loving or her lust from wanting.  _I am so fucked!_   She knew that the next few days were going to be long and emotional. 

 

Neal made his way from the kitchen with two bowls of cereal.  He had a pair of Avenger boxers on, Emma knew better than to mock his heroes no matter where they resided.  She sat up to make space for him and took her cereal.  “I meant what I said last night.” He looked at her and asked with his mouth full.  “The part where you marry me and have my babies?”  She wiped a little of milk from his chin. 

“Yeah, that part Neal.”  He saw the seriousness was back. 

“What is up Swan?”  She placed the bowl on the low coffee table. 

“Why?”  She asked, looking deep into his eyes. He frowned.  “Why what?”  He could see her eyes watering up.  “Why did you stay with me?  You knew I could never give you that life, babies, and marriage, and still, you love me. You stayed.  Why?”  They have never spoken of it.  Hell, he never even admitted that he cared for her more than a sister.

 

“Emma where is this coming from?”  She placed her hand on his cheek.  “I need you to know how much I love you.”  The tears spilled over.  He wiped them.  His voice was strained when he answered.

“I would rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all.”  This made her cry more, for him, for her, for the past and ten dead women.  He held her and kissed the top of her head. “Emma, let me in, tell me what is going on?”  He begged.  She sniffed and wiped her face with her arm.  “Neal, this killer… he knows things… personal things… I think his end game will be me.”  Neal stared at her in shock. “What?  Are you sure?”  She nodded.  “We need to get you into protective custody, does Spencer know?”  She shook her head and pulled him back by the hand.  “Neal, currently it is my fucked up theory.  We will catch him long before it comes to that, but I needed you to know how much I love you in case…”  Her throat closed off, he pulled her into his strong arms and kept her there until she stopped crying.

 

Emma left his place in the late morning.  She went home, cleaned herself up before she called Gillian to ask her if she could come over. The A.D.A sounded relieved.  She thought she really screwed things up with the blonde.  Emma knocked on her door after twelve.  Gillian opened, still apprehensive of Emma’s attitude, but Emma pulled her into an embrace and kissed her on the temple as soon as the door was closed.  Emma actually wanted to crawl into bed. Reluctantly she knew that they did need to talk.  She took a seat in the lounge.  Gillian handed her a beer.  She was scared to look at Emma, to see the anger that was there on Friday.

“I’m sor….”

“If you tell me that you are sorry for doing your job I might kick your ass, Gillian.  We have spoken about this.”  Gillian nodded. 

“Still, I pushed.”  Emma agreed.  “You did, too hard and into a matter that is personal.”

“Emma… I might not like Detective Gale or some of the implications she pointed out, but how did you know Paula Jennings was raped before you read the report?”  Emma placed her hand over her mouth.  She did not want to discuss it.  She did not have time to process it in her own time or break down in her own way, and by tomorrow this time, more people will ask the same question.

 

“You are not going to like it…”  Emma eventually got out in a hoarse whisper.  Gillian came to sit next to her and took her hand.  “Emma, I do not like it now.  You need to give me something?”  Emma let out a breath.  If nothing else, she needed to prepare Gillian for the next day, she was sleeping with her after all. 

“I could not tell you anything before because of the evidence Gillian.  You know how things work.  I needed evidence.  The fucker gave it to me by leaving May and Cole’s fingerprints in the car he abducted Hamilton and Pierce in.  But it goes much further than the May/Cole case, further than the Jennings/Lance case as well.”  Gillian looked at her shocked. 

“How much do you have?”  Emma shrugged.  “Everything?” Gillian swallowed.  “What do you mean Emma?”  The blonde pushed her hair back in a nervous gesture. “As I said Gillian, until the forensic report from Detective Sullen, I had no evidence linking anything.  I had a woman with dark brown eyes and a theory.”  She sat up then let her head rest in her hands.  This was so much harder than she expected.

 

When she looked back to Gillian, there was a tremendous sadness in her entire posture. “Six months ago I found four more women.  Same M.O.  No evidence. But then I did not treat the May and Cole cases as separate.  I saw it as one kill from the beginning.  The cold cases reaffirmed my theory.  So when Cherise’s body was found, I did not look at her case as a standalone, I started looking for the other woman, who at the time was still alive.  I was trying to find Julia before he would kill her.  The Jennings/Lance case was handed to me after Julia Pierce’s abduction.”  Gillian accepted that.

“Emma it still does not explain how you knew… How did you know it was one killer? The evidence pointed to two killers, one left-handed and one right-handed. One woman was cut, the other was stabbed, Emma how did you know and how did you know that Paula Jennings was raped?”  Emma was shaking lightly. She could not tell if it was from her hangover or the stress of keeping her shit together.  She exhaled, wiped the tears that were running over her face.  Gillian did not realize she was crying, the shock of the action through her like an electric current.  “Em…”  She did not get further as Emma’s shoulders started to shake, followed by heart-wrenching sobs.  In Emma’s mind, she was reliving that day.  The day with James, her number two of worst days ever.  Gillian pulled Emma into an embrace, she remembered what Neal told her, but there was so much at stake.  Her career, Emma’s, god their relationship.  She needed answers.  Emma already said to her that she was not going to be keen on the facts. That she should distance herself from the Detective.

“Sorry,” Emma said as she pulled herself up from Gillian’s hold.  _Twice in one day?  Must be some kind of record_.  It was not until that exact moment that she realized how much this damn case was affecting her. She was crying due to stress, due to relief, because now she could talk about the things that had haunted her since Melissa’s murder.  She was crying for the dead woman, crying from the guilt she felt.  That she has not caught this fuck yet, for her part in his fucked up delusion. And she cried for the woman holding her. Whatever they had, after seeing Regina, after feeling Regina, Emma knew.  There would only ever be Regina.

 

Gillian got her another beer. Emma swallowed half of it before she continued.  “You are not going to like the connection that I made.”  Gillian held her breath, “You already said as much.”  Emma cleared her throat.  “I think the suspect is trying to replicate a day in my life.”  Gillian opened her mouth, then closed it again.  There was a lot of gossip indicating that the able Detective lost it.  Whatever Gillian expected, that was certainly not it.  “Let me finish.”  She held up a hand to stop Gillian from interrupting.  “I got a second opinion yesterday.  A profiler, she agreed with me, so I am not crazy.”  Gillian nodded for her to continue.  “After Afghanistan four of my unit settled in Boston.  Neal and James joined the BPD. I finished my studies. The three of us lived together. Neal and James were rookie beat cops.  They adjusted well to living, outside a war zone.  Until one day when a car backfired. James pulled out his gun and started to shoot at the vehicle. He was placed on administrated duty. He was forced to see the psychologist.” 

 

Emma continued to relate a piece of her past that only a few knew of.  “Everything seemed to be fine for another year.  He lost it with a Muslim man next time.  He kept on yelling about the insertion and waving his gun around.  His partner took him down. He went for a full psych evaluation.  He failed and was taken off the force.  It devastated him.  He moved back to Philadelphia with his mother.  He stayed there for a while.  Then James voluntary commitment himself at the VA in Hampton.  Neal and I visited once.  Sometime later, I visited again, with my ex.  James knew I was gay.” Emma stopped the tale.  Shaking her head.  She had been over this so many times. Wondering if there was any point where she could have changed the outcome. She knew it was irrational.  Her guilt, the self-blame. It was so hard to stop her thoughts. It was the reason why Regina asked her to get help. Emma looked at Gillian.  _What will her reaction be?_  She continued her difficult tale.

“He proposed to me right after I graduated, then again on that weekend we visited.  We took him out for the day. We had lunch at the motel where we were staying.  He went to the bathroom…”  Emma started to choke on her words.  Gillian waited patiently for the woman to compose herself. She had no idea where the story was going.

“James saw that there was only one bed. He lost it.  He yelled at my ex, asking me if her dick was bigger than his… he kicked her. He kicked her in the crotch. She fell, he kicked her unconscious. He pulled out a ring again. We fought, about me picking her over him, he said what so many ignorant men think and say.  I simply needed to sleep with him. Then I would be straight. Forget about her. Then he and I could be together…” 

Emma choked on her sobs.  Reliving the events of that faithful day gripped at Emma’s heart.  She convincingly suppressed her emotions. Gillian, however, pulled the broken woman into her embrace. She held Emma to her chest.  She softly rocked the woman in her arms. Gillian kept on telling her over and over that she was sorry.  Emma did not need to end the story for her to know what happened.  It made her extremely miserable that Emma opened up for the first time, and this devastating tale was what she heard.  Gillian learned more about the woman, her past and life in an hour than what she did in the three years previously.  Gillian did not even know Emma had a girlfriend before. She merely assumed Emma was always a player.  Unfortunately, but to her relief, such a painful memory, in Hampton, explained how she knew Paula Jennings was raped.  It explained a serious amount of events, Emma was not crazy. The Detective made the connection before anyone else because there is some personal aspect to this case.  _What did she say?_ _I had a woman with dark brown eyes and a theory._

She eventually calmed down. Gillian was looking at her with a lot of concern.  “Emma…?”  The blonde shook her head. When she started to speak again, her voice was a little stronger.  “If I was uncertain about the day this fucker was recreating, the Pierce crime scene cleared up any reservation.”  Gillian thought about the photos she saw.  “The dildo, it was cut. _Is her dick bigger than mine_?  Oh god, Emma.” 

 

Emma got up and went to the bathroom to wash her face.  She also got another beer out of the fridge.  “Starting tomorrow, Gillian, my life will be ripped apart.  You are the fourth person I have told about the rape.”  Emma was shaking once more.  “They are going to ask everything.  I am going to relive the worst days of my life until we catch him.”  Gillian understood now.  So much made sense.  Not solely about the case, but about Emma.  Her reluctance to commit, her severe anger. Emma’s emotional isolation, her heart that seemed so closed off at times.  Gillian bit her lips. 

 

“It is alright Gillian, ask your question.”  Emma knew her well enough to know the gesture.  Gillian looked down.  She was asking her girlfriend a question, not a person she issued a deposition to.  “So James, he is our suspect?”  The question was asked softly.  Emma shook her head.  “James is dead.  He killed himself at the VA in Philly. He was committed to at the time.”  Gillian felt herself breathe a little easier. 

“The fuck we are looking for was James’s caregiver.”  Emma was quiet for a moment. She was utterly exhausted.  “I will explain everything tomorrow Gillian, but you are still not going to like it.” Gillian gently rubbed Emma’s cheek. She smiled through her own tears.  “I’m sorry Emma, but I expected that I would have to arrest you tomorrow, so anything else I can deal with.”  Emma shook her head. 

“Don’t be so sure Counselor.” She looked down for a moment.  “Gillian you need to tell Robin about us, sooner rather than later.  It will come out in this investigation.”  Gillian gave her a frown.  Still not understanding the severity of the case.

 

Gillian ventured further. “Emma, none of this is in your file.”  The blonde frowned at her.  “You read my file?”  She felt anger, but she could see a plea of desperation in Gillian’s eyes.  Emma merely nodded, taking it for what it is. “No, it’s not. I did not report the rape.” Gillian felt her fists ball.  She understood.  She dealt with cases like this all the time.  It was far harder for women than what people understood.  “Did you go to a hospital?” Emma shook her head.  She knew she needed to explain.  “No, we came home. My ex-called the other member of your unit. He called Neal in turn.”  Gillian frowned slightly.  “Why?”

“He has medical experience.  He cleaned me up, took care of my injuries, gave me something to calm me down.  My ex and Neal helped me through it. Physically I healed. Emotionally everything became harder.” The A.D.A indicated her understanding. “Who is the other member of your unit?”  It was an odd question. “He has nothing to do with anything, other than being a friend,” Emma answered her in a quiet defensive manner.  “I could look it up, Emma.”

“You could Councilor.”  Emma gave her a depressed grin. She knew Gillian would never find the fourth member of their unit.  Some people were better at hiding than others.  It was not a big deal.  However, Gillian betrayed her trust two days before with a private conversation they had. She was not about to divulged information about a friend that Emma trusted with her life. Gillian did not need his name. “Emma, if it could help the case.” There was a deep frown on the tear stained face.  “There is nothing there Gillian. Leave it?” The attorney gave in. She reached for Emma’s hand. An effort to comfort her. “Emma, you are so strong.  Living through something like that.  Having a friend betray you in such a manner…” Gillian did not finish.  Instead of the anguish of a moment before, Emma’s eyes were fueled with fire. “What is it?”  Gillian asked carefully.

“Do you think I came through it unscarred?” Gillian thought about it. “No, but you are stronger.”  Emma felt herself shake with anger.  “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?” Her voice was an alarmingly low tone. 

“No Emma, I did not mean it that way.”

“Then what did you mean?”  Gillian chose her words carefully.  “You are not a victim.  You do not carry any emotional scars.” Emma bit her tongue with her back molders. She did not have the energy to fight. Perhaps it was not rational.  Gillian met her after everything had happened.  All Gillian knew was the Dark Swan.  “Gillian, I am the most emotionally, dysfunctional fucked up person you will ever meet in your life.  Don’t you know that about me?” Gillian shook her head. She did not see walls; she saw strength, she did not see reclusiveness, she thought Emma was shy and private. Emma tapped her hand on her leg, then shook her head, leaving without further explanation.

********

Neal carried a worried look the next day as he followed Emma with his eyes.  She did not stop to greet anyone. She went straight to Spencer’s office.  She spent half an hour there before the both of them emerged.  “Cassidy, you are with us,” Spencer called to him.  Emma stopped at her desk to get the photos and files she kept locked up there as well as the bag she submitted into evidence two days ago. 

“I told Gillian about Hampton.”  She said to Neal as he watched her walking next to him.  “Why?”  His question was soft.  It was him and Regina that took care of Emma after Hampton.  He knew what that weekend did to her. He was witness to the subsequent results.  “This whole fucking case is about that weekend.”  She only gave him a look as she took the front passenger seat in Spencer’s car. 

“Why do I get the back seat?”  He asked Emma annoyed.  She turned to him.  “Because I am taller than you Cassidy.”

 

Emma has never been as nervous in her life as she made her way to the boardroom at the D.A’s office.  She had pleated pants and a shirt on, the kind of thing she would wear to court.  She and Spencer discussed a few matters before they left the office.  Emma clearly indicating that she did not want Tori Gale there.  It was one of two demands.  She accepted that August was there or Killian, but if she saw that bitch again, it would be too soon. Her cheek was still bruised.  They both knew it would become an FBI matter, so Emma asked Spencer to call Leopold White from Washington DC to assign his team, Regina’s team. The man was an asshole, but he had a good team.  Spencer questioned her. Her answer was yet again that she would give him the information soon.

Now she was standing before a blank whiteboard in a meeting with the DA, A.D.A, M.E, the BPD Captain, two district Lieutenants, and her partner.  Unlike starting her case with the first murder, she began with Melissa May, explaining that it was Heather Cole’s murder that made her think the murders were connected.  The M.O being too similar. She was interrupted, but Lockley said that this time Emma is to tell the entire tale until the end, without interruptions. As with Regina, she pointed more to the differences in the killings, the weapons, the distance in the hunting ground. She handled the four murders, which everyone in the room was familiar with. Then she backtracked to the first murders. The Detective pointed out more of the irregularities. The women whose hair was cut, the different dump sites.  The inconsistency in murder weapons. By the time Emma started to scribble on the second board, even Gillian was questioning the blonde all over again.  Emma wrote down the ages, height, and weight of every woman from memory.

 

Spencer spoke up, “So he is going for the same build?”  She nodded, “For a reason Sir.  Everyone wanted to know how and why I connected the cases long before the physical evidence was supplied?”  She pointed to the ages.  “At seventeen, I joined the Marines, at twenty-two, I joined the BPD, at twenty-six the event happened that I think he is reenacting happened, at twenty-eight, I became a detective, and I am now thirty-two.”  Spencer shook his head.  _Dear god, I hope you have more Swan_.

“That could be a co-incidence Swan.” She nodded to him.  “Yes, however, all his victims differ six years in age.”  She wrote the ages of the brunettes down. “His victim pool is specific.  Blonde women with green eyes, brunette women with dark eyes.” Locksley tapped irritably with his fingers on the table. “That is all circumstantial.” Emma smiled at him.  “Indeed. He hunts for them carefully.  None of these women were picked at random. All the blonde victims and I share life similarities at the same age.”

“You were a prostitute?” The D.A asked shocked.  Even Spencer rolled his eyes this time.  “No Sir, but I have a juvenile record. At seventeen I received an opportunity to change my life. All these women,” She indicated to the victims. “Were in some way bettering their lives from where they came from, even Mandy Wait.  She was trying to finish her GED. Kimberly Downs was waitressing while completing her studies. Paula entered the police force the only way she could. Melissa worked her butt off to get the position she had, as well as Cherise. These are all things I had to do myself.  None of them had the emotional support or means to do it, but they persevered.” _Oh god_ , August thought.  _She finally lost it.  She identified with the victims and placed pieces together that were not there_.  He voiced his concern.  “Emma,” His voice was soft and sympathetic. “This is all tragic…” Emma stared him down, daring him to finish the sentence. He sat back in his chair.

“They were all orphans or runaways.”  Gillian looked up.  There was no family or childhood information on Emma.  There was undoubtedly no juvenile record in her file.  She asked Emma once about her family. Her answer was dismissive, no anything to tell.

 

“He has an obsession with me. I am his fantasy that he is trying to recreate.”  Even to her ears, it sounded insane.  She took a deep breath. “All the facts correlate with my brunette counterpart. Wealthy background, political connections, upper-class social standing.  That is the reason why no connection was found.  In life, other than their socio-economic backgrounds, none of these women have anything in common. Their fate was not in who they were and what they did.  It was the way they were raised and how they looked.”

There was silence all around.  Gillian could not look at her.  Red had a pained expression on her face. “Emma.”  August was ready to get up. “You all really do think I am insane?”

“Emma it could all be a coincidence.”  August tried one more time as she straightened. She turned to the third board and flipped it over.  “Is this also a coincidence, Sir?”

 

All of them were familiar with four of the photos taken of the victims before death, but to see all ten next to each other with the images of her and Regina enfolding the victim pool, dispelled all doubt.  Locksley and Spenser jumped up, the Captain let out an “Oh fuck!”  He was on his phone the moment Emma sat down to call the Commissioner.  Everyone looked shocked except for Gillian and Neal.  Neal looked at Emma with sad eyes, Gillian looked at her in confusion, Red looked guilty.  The two Lieutenants left with the Captain to speak to the Commissioner, who had the Mayor on the line.  Locksley joined them.  The five men were about to decide her fate, Emma was fidgeting with the seam of her jacket.  “Swan!”  The Captain called her.  “Are you sure you want her team on this?” Emma nodded. 

 

He left again, Gillian turned to Emma.  She realized two things, she looked a lot like the victim pool, and she had no idea who the _her_ was that stared back at them with her smiling red lips and dark eyes.  “Emma, who is the other women?”  Red lifted her head. She started working at the M.E’s office after Regina had left.  Emma looked Gillian straight into the eyes conveying the warning she gave Gillian the night before.  Gillian nodded her understanding.  Emma’s voice had a catch in it when she spoke.  “Her name is Regina Mills. She was my training officer and my ex-girlfriend.” 

 

Gillian sat frozen.  She remembered the first time she worked with Emma. The Detective was a contestant for bitch of the year.  Locksley told her not to take it too personally, that she looked a lot like Emma’s ex.  That it was perhaps the reason why the blonde detective was so full of animosity. Gillian swallowed.  Emma was right.  This was worse.

 

The men came back, sat down without looking at Emma.  It told her everything she needed to know.  Lockley cleared his throat.  “Emma you know we cannot keep you on the case?”  She gave him a sad smile. “I know, Sir.” He looked at Spencer before he carried on.  “Do you have more?”  She gave a crude nod. 

“I do Sir.”  She got up. She added another picture on the board.  “This is James Durant.”  Neal’s head shot up. Spencer narrowed his eyes.  “Is that not the rookie that lost his shit?” Emma took a breath, sadness filling her eyes.  “Yes, Sir.”  Spencer rubbed his hand over his short hair.  “Isn’t he dead Swan?”  She swallowed, “He is Sir.”  He instructed her to carry on.  She placed the photos of the killer on the board. 

“This is Elwood Toole. He worked at the VA in Philly where James died.  Elwood was a caretaker for James. This is Dennis Radar, a long distance courier for the Police in Hampton where Paula worked and died.” 

 

She placed the other photo she had under it.  “This is a crime scene photo. He is here in the background.  He took part in the search for Paula.” They all shook their heads.  “This is Donald Harvey, Miss French found him. The last ID we have of him is an Uber registered as Eddie Kemper.”  She walked over to the D.A. 

“I booked this into evidence late Friday night.  I went to Philadelphia to speak to James’s mother, Jessica Durant.  She gave me this.”  She handed Lockley the piece of paper with the telephone number on it and the photo.  

“This is the contact number for Robbie Yates. He is still in contact with Jessica Durant.  He wrote the number down for her, so now you might have his prints, his handwriting and one of the numbers he still uses with a full frontal photo from about seven years ago.” 

 

August rubbed his forming stubble over his face.  “You might want to lead with that next time Detective, instead of giving us your crazy facts.”  She gave him a smile. 

“What is his next move Swan?”  Spencer asked.  She looked at Gillian, then continued as normal. 

“His last victims are Regina and my ages.  He also sent a clear message with the phallus.”  Several eyebrows went up.  “I already gave my testimony to A.D.A Marsh.  This is all about James and me. About a weekend and what happened in Hampton. I will formalize it with her.”  She cleared the emotion from her throat.  “If I profiled the situation correctly, he is going after Regina and my girlfriends next, or straight for us.”  Spencer clenched his jaw.  “She was your consult?”  Emma confirmed it, Gillian fumed in silence. 

 

“Does she have someone?”  Emma swallowed hard. 

“I did not ask, Sir, I only advised that she takes measures to protect her if she has someone.”  His eye jumped all of a sudden.  _Fuck!_   “That is the real reason you went to the pier?” She gave him a small smile.  He knew her tricks too well. 

“Yes Sir, I have had a tail on my girlfriend since the Middleton murder.” Gillian tried hard to hide her surprise.  “Any other revelations Swan?” She shook her head. 

“Not at the current moment Sir.”  He watched her closely.  He wondered how she coped with all this shit emotionally, without his consent or support. But then again.  She was Emma Swan.

“Fine, we will hear Regina’s take on this as soon as the FBI shows up.  I will speak to Leopold about her involvement in this case, for now, Emma you are off the case, you will hand over everything to Neal and Killian. We will require you to consult if we need more information.  Get some rest Swan, you look like shit and good job, Detective.” She gave him a nod as she slipped her last file over to Neal before she left the conference room.

 

Emma walked out of the building and stood on the massive steps, taking in deep breaths.  She was not too sure if she felt relief in handing the case over, or if it was her current emotional state, but she felt different.  She had other matters to look at now, as long as they did not partner her with Gale, she was happy.  Emma spotted Will’s men in the distance.  She was grateful.  She saw them the night before at Gillian’s apartment.  She knew Will had a tracker on Gillian’s car and her phone.  She never asked about his business, but he told her, as a friend he said.  It did not matter.  As a cop, she would never go after him anyway.  She hoped that it was a shit storm that she could avoid, her connection with the Irish mob.  It made her smile; it sounded so ominous.  However, since the night before she started to prepare herself mentally for what she knew was coming.  She would have friends working on the case now; there would be questions. Questions like Gillian’s the night before that she would not answer.

 

Red was the first to join Emma outside.  She closed her jacket against the windy cold.  Her voice was serious and low. “Where did I slip up Emma?”  Emma turned to the young pathologist.  “You didn’t Doctor Lucas.  All your findings were accurate.  I am sure if the FBI look at it, they will come to the same conclusion.”  The words did not help Red with her doubt.  “You knew, you knew right from the moment I handled Heather Cole’s case.”

“I did,” Emma acknowledged.  “But it was not the autopsy that made me connect the cases. I had hoped that you would find something to confirm my suspicion, but as you pointed out the differences, there was no argument.  He changed his ways with every kill.  That is why he had gotten away, thus far.  He goes over state lines. He kills with different weapons and with different hands. You missed nothing Red.”  The young Doctor wanted to believe Emma, she really did, but she felt so responsible for Julia Pierce’s death. 

 

“I will go over all the autopsies, I will request the files.”  She stated with authority.  Emma turned to her.  “There is nothing there.  I have read the reports a hundred times, I will give them to you and Belle can get you the Jennings/Lance file, but I promise you Red, there is nothing.  Every kill is different.”  Red nodded, but her resolve remained the same, she will go over everything again until she finds something. 

“The autopsy on Julia Piers will be in an hour.  Will I see you?”  Emma shook her head. “You heard the brass, I’m off the case, if I am lucky, they will keep Agent Mills on.”  Red turned her head.  “Why is that important and who is she?”  Emma looked into the blue eyes of the doctor.  “She is the reason why I knew the cases were connected.”  She did not explain further as Neal and Spencer made their way outside. 

 

Emma asked Spencer to go past her apartment to pick up all the files she had.  Both the Lieutenant and her partner were furious with her when they saw her wall.

“No wonder you look like shit Swan, you really did work this case every day for eight months?” She gave Spencer a shrug.  “Did you know about this?”  Neal had his hands in the pockets of his long gray jacket, as usual, he wore his hoodie underneath.

“Did I know about this?”  He swayed in his boyish way when he talked. “No Lieutenant, I did not know about this.”  The three of them removed everything from Emma’s wall and to Spencer’s further surprise, Emma had two boxes filled with files.  He shook his head, but he also knew if she came to him sooner, without evidence, he would have dismissed her.  She all but solved the case on her own.  The rest of them would now play catch up.

 

The moment the trio came into the station Spencer started yelling orders.  Jennings came over to take the box Emma was carrying, she thanked him.  It did not take much for the Officers to realize something big was up. They all wanted a part of it. Jennings asked first.  “Detective, can I work with you?”  She looked at Neal. He gave a non-committed shrug.  She smiled at the young officer.  “How is your stomach these days Kid?”  He blushed a bit at her question. 

“As you said, Detective, what could be worse than decomposed body fluid on you?”  Neal smirked. Emma gave him a look.

“First up Jennings, I am off the case, the FBI will now lead the investigation.  Secondly, the last victim’s face was literary ripped off, Hannibal style, if you can handle that then ask Agent Mills if you can come into the investigation.  If you survive her, nothing will stop you, Officer.”  He gave Emma a genuine smile of grateful joy. She cringed for the kid on the inside.  She knew that Regina would eat him for breakfast.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loads of fun as our ladies bump heads, as Regina and her team take over the case.  
> Thank you for all the comments and Kudos, keep them coming?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, a full description of an autopsy, mutilation, and death. Graphic content.

**Chapter 10**

 

The three FBI Agents arrived at the station in the early afternoon.  They came directly from the Airport to the station.  As they walked in, there was a buzz.  Regina was immediately annoyed.  She knew that the cops did not like the FBI, taking over their cases.  Before they could make it to the elevator, an Officer approached her. “Agent Mills?”  He asked tentatively, Regina gave him the look that would make most men piss in their pants, but the young Officer stood tall.  In his mind, he kept repeating: _Nothing worse than decomposed body on you!_   Regina smiled inwardly when the Officer straightened up.  “Jennings, right?”  She asked, remembering him from Saturday. 

“Yes, ma’am,” She walked up to him, her partner shook his head.  The boy was dead.  “It is Senior Special Agent Mills or Doctor Mills. My mother is ma’am!”  Graham watched as Jennings swallowed hard.

“Yes, Senior Special Agent Mills.”  Jennings got out. His legs were shaking.  Regina turned slightly.  “These are Senior Special Agents Cooper Knight, our team leader, and Graham Hunter my partner.”  She turned back to Jennings, wondering how he was surviving her onslaught. Usually, Officers ran from her after the first bark.

“You can get me the same order Detective Swan instructed you to get for me over the weekend.  SSA Knight takes his coffee black with four sugars. He will have a cheeseburger.  SSA Hunter drinks hot chocolate with two sugars. You can get him anything Mexican, the hotter, the better.”  She gave Jennings a hundred-dollar bill and instructed him to bring the slip back before she entered the elevator.

 

The two men chuckled as the door closed.  “You know you could have eased up on the lad?”  Graham said with a smile.  Regina looked up at her partner, even in her four-inch heels she had to look up at both men.  “If he gets it right, he deserves to have a peep at the case.”  Neither men agreed with most of Regina’s logic, mannerisms or strategies, but neither did they stop to question it, knowing the results were always what they needed.

 

As the lift opened and Regina walked out, her eyes went to the desk in the far left corner.  Emma was sitting behind her desk with her feet up, on a call. She noticed Regina immediately. She smiled at herself.  _Yes, this was her Regina_.  The confidence, the professional look, that determined self-assured stride.  Regina made her way over to the blonde.  All the men in the office stopped as the gorgeous brunette made her way over to the Detective. “Jesus Christ, the Dark Swan, and the Evil Queen together again, we are fucked, boys.” Graham heard an Officer whisper behind him.  The nicknames amused him.  Regina’s was undoubtedly appropriate he mused to himself.   

 

Regina’s steps were confident, she was wearing a gray skirt and suit jacket, with a deep purple overcoat.  When she saw what Emma had on, one perfect eyebrow shot up. She would never have guessed the blonde to own or wear anything that she could not buy at a chain store.  Emma even had matching high heel boots on.  Regina approached in a way that when she got to the desk, she swiped Emma’s boots off it.  A clear gasp went through the office, all Officers in close vicinity moved away as the Detective got up to looked down at the FBI Agent.  Graham and Cooper watched, amused. Regina gave them the minimal information about the Detective, on the other hand, what surprised them both were, the comments she made, speaking of Emma professionally.  Her praise was high, which was unheard of, as Regina set such high standards for herself.  They watched the interaction with intensity.

 

Emma was still talking on the telephone, but there was no mistake about her irritation with the brunette, who she was staring down currently.

“Detective Sargent Sullen the FBI presently walked in.”  Leroy heard the change in her voice.  Regina heard the gruff voice come through clear as the Sargent told Emma his thoughts.  “Emma please keep a fucking eye on them. Don’t let them fuck this up?”  Emma gave Regina a satisfying smile. 

“I know this particular team’s reputation, Sargent, they will get the job done.”  Leroy snorted. 

“Yeah, well, tell them to keep me up to date? Fucking Feds.”  He mumbled the last words, Regina still heard them. Emma watched Regina. She was rubbing her right thumb into her hand.  The blonde smiled significantly. She knew it was an indication of Regina’s annoyance. 

“Will do Leroy.”  She placed the phone back on the receiver.  “Senior Special Agent Mills, thank you for coming.”  There was complete silence in the usually busy room.  Both Graham and Cooper watched the showdown in amusement.  Neal joined them from behind, he spoke to Graham.  “My money is on the blonde.”  He held out a twenty.  Both Agents took him up on the bet. Several Officers chipped in quietly as Neal took the tally.

 

Regina looked at Emma as if she smelled like rotten cheese.  “I would have expected you to be working, not lounging about.”  Emma smiled smoothly.  “Currently my workload is none of your concern, Agent Mills.”  Emma got _the_ _look_ ; she nearly cracked up laughing. Her eyes were actually tearing up with keeping her smirk in and it aggravated Regina even more. 

“This is a desk, Detective, not a footstool.”  Emma turned her head as she folded her arms across her chest. 

“I am well aware Agent Mills. How I conduct my business at my station is even less of your concern, than the case I am working on.  I am certain that you and your team would like to set up, as you should know well by now that the case you are overseeing is a priority case.  I would have expected an Agent of your caliber to start working immediately instead of chitchatting to the plebeian.”  Emma could swear the vein in Regina’s forehead exploded.  Emma had a too-can-play-this-game cold stare in her eyes.  It threw Regina.  She expected Emma’s normal reaction of crass unsuited comebacks, this was… well, not Emma.  Her mouth opened and closed.  Emma saw Neal making an air punch and started to hand out money, the two agents with him shocked, to say the least.  Emma walked past Regina. She held her hand out to the huge black man first.  “SSA Knight?”  He nodded.  “Emma Swan.”  She turned to Graham. He had the same compassionate look in his dark eyes that Neal had. 

“That would make you Agent Mills’ partner?”  He smiled at her.  “Indeed, Graham Hunter.”  She shook his hand. She liked him immediately. “Belfast?”  She asked, his low accent so different from Will’s.  He confirmed with a smile.  “This disreputable excuse for a Detective is my partner Neal Cassidy.  I would advise not to take a bet with him, he always wins.”  All three men had the decency to blush slightly.  She turned to Regina, whom she could sense standing behind her. 

“Neal, you remember Agent Mills?”  Neal gloomily nodded in her direction.  Emma gave him a speech about being courteous. Telling him that all the Officers would follow their lead. If they treated the FBI with animosity, so would the rest of the department, then nothing would get done.  She gave him a look now, but she did not expect him to acknowledge Regina. 

“Detective Cassidy will work with you in the boardroom. We had set up for this task force. He will introduce you to the rest of the team.”  The Agents nodded, before they made their way ahead, Emma pulled Neal to the side. She gave him a twenty. He looked at her curiously. 

“My money is on Killian.”  She said with a sparkle in her eyes.  Neal’s deep frown appeared in question.  “You did bet on who will win the showdown between Regina and me?”  He confirmed.  She smiled at him.  “Well, I bet that she will tell Killian to go fuck himself in such a way that he would look forward to the trip.”  Neal smiled his full smile at her.  It was a good bet. Emma turned to lead the way for the Agents, to show them where to set up while Neal was taking bets on whose head Regina would rip off first.  Most bets went to Belle and Red.  Neal also betted on Killian.

 

After Emma led them to the boardroom, she turned to leave.  “Where exactly are you going, Detective Swan?”  Emma turned her full body to Regina as a scolded five-year-old would do.  _This is the Emma, I know_ , Regina thought. 

“That would not be your concern, Agent Mills.”  She said amused. Regina clenched her fist. Graham placed a hand on her shoulder.  Emma looked at Graham with new insight.  _So he was Regina’s Yan_.  _Poor man_.  She left as Neal came in.  She also took an earlier bet with him and Killian, that she would be called into the case before the day ends.  The two men felt sure enough of their work and their abilities that they would be able to answer any questions.

 

Neal walked into the room, all of Emma’s work was now displayed on several boards.  Cooper and Graham were briefed on the flight in, but seeing the work of the un-sub and his unmistakable targets they cast looks at Regina.  She ignored them.  Belle and Red were already sitting, waiting for everyone.  Neal started the introductions, as he finished explaining who the M.E was, Killian walked in.  His gaze fell upon Regina instantly. He gave her one of his irresistible smiles.  Regina summed him up in five seconds flat. She merely greeted his smile with a frown. 

“Agents Knight, Hunter, and Mills, this is Detective Killian Jones, for this case, I will partner with him,” Neal stated flatly. Kilian swaggered over to Regina and took her hand with his flamboyant mannerisms.  Graham thought that if he kissed Regina’s hand, she would yank his beating heart out of his chest.

 

“An honor to meet you Senior Special Agent Mills, if I was aware that the FBI produced such jewels, I would have applied for a position there.”  Regina looked at him as if he had lost his mind.  She waivered her eyes from the obnoxious man to Neal, who was looking down, biting his lips together to keep himself from laughing.  Regina relaxed.  “Well, Detective Jones if I knew the Boston PD would produce such jingoistic, egotistical, ignoramuses as yourself, I would not have returned.”  She took her hand from his and continued to organize her files.  Killian tilted his head. 

“I am sure I did not understand that, but it did not sound like a compliment.”  Neal held a hand to his mouth. Graham and Cooper moved towards Regina from the other side of the table, Graham cringed.  Regina turned to the good-looking, self-righteous man.  “My apology Detective.”  She tilted her head slightly, her hair falling to her left side.  Her eyes were almost black; her full red lips were in a strained line. _The look_.  “What I implied was that I will make it my mission in life…” As she said the words, she walked closer to Killian; she even took a small piece of pretend fluff of his collar, rubbing her forefingers and thumb together, a clear sign to Graham that the man in front of his partner was dead.  “… To end your career if you disrespect me like that again or continue with your inappropriate innuendoes. Is my message clear this time Detective Jones?”  Her tone of voice did not change.  It was the same husky, sensual voice she always used.  Killian swallowed. He looked down for a moment, his expression serious when he looked back at her. 

“My apologies Senior Special Agent Mills.”  He turned and took up a seat at the far end of the table.  Graham spoke to his partner softly as Spencer and August made their way into the room.  Spencer gave them a general acknowledgment while August walked over to Regina and held out a hand. 

“I do apologize for Killian, Regina, but you will be working with him, he is as full of himself as you experienced, please take any of his manners with a pinch of salt?”  She inhaled.  “Only because you asked nicely August.”  He gave her a smile pulling her into a hug.

“Please don’t crush my balls, but you look fabulous Regina.”  She gave him a coquettish look and a smile that would melt most men.  “Thank you, August.”  He shook his head in that _such-a-shame_ manner. She was truly exquisite.

 

Neal started to lay out the case, using an LED projector for better viewing, when there was a knock on the door.  It was Jennings.  Before Spencer could take his head off, Regina motioned him over.  She looked at the three orders.  He got it perfect.  She nodded to Cooper. He dismissed the Officer.  Neal carried on.  After his briefing, Red took over.  Regina thought that the Doctor looked distracted, unsure of herself, which Red felt ever since Emma’s revelation that morning.  She systematically toiled through all the autopsy reports. Similar to Emma, she pointed out the unique differences in each victim.  The Agents were taking notes.  She came to the part of the presentation that Belle put together in a hurry of Julia Pierce.  She did her prelim, waiting for the Agents to join her for the autopsy.  Doctor Lucas laid out the facts. Explaining how Julia’s face was cut through the dermis from the right to the left ear. At the completion of the mutilation, the avulsion from the mandible up occurred. Red explained through her structural facts regarding the conjunctival vessels overlying the sclera that she had found, indicating that the victim suffocated. Much to the irritation of Regina, she did not divulge more. The Doctor would only commit to a cause of death after the full autopsy. 

 

The next slide was of Julia’s genital mutilation.  It surpassed cruelty.  Red continued.  “In addition to the appalling mutilation, I discover aberrations consistent with being kicked or hit on the labia.  The mutilation trauma occurred prior to the body expired. Her clitoris was removed, it was inserted into her virginal tract.” Regina closed her eyes for a moment, the horror of what Julia endured evidently.  “The phallus was forcefully pushed into her.”  Everyone was quiet. Regina’s mind most of all frustrated to come to terms with what she heard.  “Does Emma know?”  She asked the Doctor softly. “No,” Red answered simply.  “Please keep it that way?”  Her voice stern with the instruction. Everyone nodded in agreement.  The Julia Pierce case was considerably personal to the Detective.

Red went to the next slide.  “This is inconsistent with the other victims as well as strange.  It is puncture wounds, most likely caused by a dagger-shaped object.  The aberrations are shallow, ranging from breaking the skin to half an inch, there is minimal scarring or trauma around the wounds.  There are twelve wounds.”  Regina looked from the screen to the Doctor.  “You said it was new?”  Red nodded and then quantify. 

“I only had a few hours this morning to study the other autopsies, but so far there are no indications of this kind of trauma. It was most certainly not on any of the victims I performed the autopsy on.”  Regina studied the wounds. She would like to see them for herself, which she was sure would be arranged soon, her dark brows coming together as she studied it. 

“You said no trauma, so it was like she was only pricked?”  Red thought about it and confirmed. “Any ideas?” She asked around the table.   Both Cooper and Graham knew how Regina worked. Her mind was usually far ahead.  She solved problems even before either of them considered the question. If she was stumped, they had a problem. 

“Do you have a photograph of it?”  Red held it up.  “Neal, can you please put that off and call Emma in?”  She saw the look Killian, and Neal exchanged, she guessed correctly that they consequently lost a bet.  _If nothing else the new Emma had more confidence_.

 

Neal did what he was told, a few minutes later, Emma was looking at the photo after Red gave her the facts on the wounds.  She had an expression on her face that Regina was unfamiliar with.  That scared her more than not knowing the significance of the injury.  She observed as Emma’s facial expressions changed.  _Anger, good, anger was good_.  She knew Emma did not know a thing about the Pierce autopsy report and it frustrated her that the Detective found the answer so quickly if she could not, it told her much about Emma’s commitment to this case.  Emma traced a finger over the wounds on the photograph presumably imploring her senses, feeling Julia’s pain.

“Fuck. That was why he stabbed her.”  The words fell from her lips, above a whisper.  Her voice was husky with emotions.  “Emma?”  Her head jerked up at the soft call of her name.  She looked at Regina for a moment before she turned to Red.  

“Doctor Lucas, do you have a photo of Cherise’s autopsy?”  Red looked to Regina, they all knew Cooper was now the Lead Investigator on the case, but right now, Regina was calling the shots.  Emma followed Red’s eyes. She gave Regina an oh-for-fuck-sakes-look. Regina nodded to Red. The Doctor scanned through the PowerPoint slides on the laptop until she found the full face photo of Cherise Middleton. She looked at Neal. He switched the projector on again. 

 

Emma moved to the image on the screen.  “Doctor Lucas found scabbing in these wounds.”  Emma pointed to the two deep cuts on the woman’s cheeks.  “She estimated that the weapon used to have a circumventricular blade.  Like a specific hunting or combat knife. It is a cutting knife, a fighting knife, you won’t use it primarily to stab, yet he stabbed Cherise eight times and nicked the carotid artery. I thought at the time that it was strange, letting her bleed out, all his other kills on the blonde woman were more personal, strangulation and cutting her throat, this was an accident, he lost his temper with her.” 

 

Regina rolled her eyes.  “Get to the point Detective?”  Emma ignored her. “Red you said the wounds were shallow with no trauma?”  Red frowned, so did Regina, she asked more or less the same question.  Red indicated yes, again and rambled the depth of the wounds off.  “It was not shallow; it was hesitant.”  Her eyes fell on Regina. She saw recognition there.  “What do you mean Detective Swan?”  It was Cooper that asked the question, Regina’s movement of letting her head fall into her hands did not escape him either.  Emma answered him sadly. 

“The suspect did not do this to Julia, Cherise did this.”  She carried on. “Red said it was shaped like a dagger. Daggers are associated with sacrifices or offerings.  He gives the blondes a choice.  Pick her or me.  Cherise tried, she tried to kill Julia in order to save her own life, he saw it as a rejection or betrayal, so he lost his temper with Cherise and stabbed her.  He did not plan to kill her at that moment, but he did…”  She trailed off and swallowed hard.  “Julia would have paid for this.”  She looked at Red.  “She suffered, didn’t she?”  The Doctor did not need to answer, Emma could see the regret there. Emma merely nodded and started to leave the room. “Thank you, Detective Swan.”  She gave Regina a nod and left.  They all took a moment to compose themselves.

 

“Regina?”  Cooper asked. 

“She’s right.”  He let out a sigh as he looked at Spencer.  “I know that she can’t work this case, but we cannot do this without her.”  Spencer rubbed his brow.

“I will call the D.A for a representative of his office.  Detective Swan is at your disposal, at any time.  I am sure she is bored out of her skull by now, she would not know what to do with her spare time now that her house is not filled with this case.”  Regina gave him a questioning look.  “She took the case home?”

“She did more than that. She put all the pieces together on her wall.”  Regina’s face was tense. She looked over to Neal and saw he carried some stiffness in his body that was not there a moment before.  “Did you know?”  He shook his head. 

“If I did, I would have stopped it.”  He answered slowly, low as he always did.  The tension did not subside.  He was hiding something else Regina concluded. 

“I will talk to her,” Regina stated, all the men at the table cried _no_ , except for Killian, who all of a sudden realized he was missing something.  Belle and Red had the same look. 

 

“Really Gentlemen?  We can converse civilly. We even had drinks on Saturday.”  She added with a sly smirk. It left them all spinning. Graham and Neal shared a look.  Both men made up their minds. Graham spoke up. 

“I will talk to her.  It’s neutral.”  Spencer breathed easier, as did August.  But August raised the point anyway.  “If she works closely with us can the two of you set aside your personal issues?” Regina looked at him as she shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly.  “I will if she will.”  Neal smiled.  He knew Emma would give Graham the same answer.  “Good!”  August said.  “Can we now talk about the other hippo in the room?” 

 

Spencer sat back in his chair. He tapped with his fingers on the table as if making a decision.  “Detective Swan requested this team.  She could have handed over to the local FBI, but she asked me for this team.”  He looked at Regina. “It would seem that your personal lives aside, the Detective still trusts you professionally.”  She heard the sting in his words, but she took it like a big girl.  Since she consulted Emma on Saturday, she always thought it to be her case now.  It never occurred to her that Emma would hand over to another unit. Cooper nodded his consent, Spencer added. “As for victimizing Detective Swan and Agent Mills, the asshole must be more stupid than we think.”  He took out a hundred-dollar bill and gave it to Neal.  “My money is on the Evil Queen and the Dark Swan.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The FBI and BPD try to work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support and kudos. Enjoy!

**Chapter 11**

Spenser’s comment relieved all the tension in the room.  Cooper handed out orders to all of them stating that they would pick it up in the morning.  It was already late afternoon, most of them would be joining Doctor Lucas for the autopsy.  Graham tasked with interviewing Emma.  As the team exited passing Emma’s desk, Neal stopped to give her a twenty. “Oh no, you don’t.” She said as she slapped him playfully. “It was only the two of us that got it right. You have to split the winnings.”  He gave her a smile she loved so much and the rest of the money. 

 

“Was it priceless?”  Neal erupted with laughter. 

“Oh Swan, I have no idea which one of you two are, the more evil at the moment.”  He rubbed her cheek with his thumb, affectionately.  Regina watched the interaction.  The playfulness, the love, the worry and then Neal leaned in to whisper something to Emma.  The Agent watched as Emma’s features changed.  She watched as her hand went to her mouth, then she heard the, _oh fuck_ as she gave Neal a worried look.  Regina ran her tongue over her teeth as if she wanted to get rid of a bad taste.  She turned to instruct Graham, he nodded and watched his partner leave with Cassidy.

*********

Dull blue eyes followed the Agents and Detectives as they came out.  He was overjoyed when he discovered that Regina was in Boston, he would start his work in Washington DC without a need to worry about the Agent interfering.  His plan was slowly coming together.  Then the frown appeared under the ball cap he had on.  Emma was not with them.  He heard talk of her being taken off the case, but that was not right.  She knew him. She was the one that came so close.  He saw the pathologist leave as well.  His gaze was on her for a long time.  He saw the way she looked at Emma, more than once now. Emma smiled at her.  She never smiled at the A.D.A.  _Could I be wrong_?  He wondered for a moment, then shook his head. _No_.  He had the right woman.  He tracked them all so carefully.  He knew all their schedules before he took them, he planned his routes. He had his cover.  Emma brought Regina to him, all he needed to do was to pick up Crystal in a few days.  He could not wait for this part of the game.  He watched Crystal before.  He knew what she was, he knew her real name was Allison, but he liked Crystal.  She had an amazing build.  Her eyes as green as Emma’s.  He was going to like playing with her, as for Emma’s two fuck whores, he had plans for them as well.  Gillian and Regina would experience his wrath for taking Emma away from him.  His eyes narrowed as Emma left the building with the man.  He was one of the FBI Agents.  He looked at them.  They looked good together. Soon it will be him that takes Emma out, he will be her everything.  As he crossed the road to his car, a few policemen greeted him.  He waved and smiled back at them. 

********

Emma took Graham to the same pub she and Regina had drinks at.  They both ordered beers.  “So, Agent Hunter, I heard you drew the short straw?”  He smiled at her. He dropped his head as if she told him a joke.  He should have expected that. He would have given Regina a head’s up as well.  “Would you rather be talking to Regina?”  She pondered the question. 

“No, I would rather have her at the autopsy.”  Graham frowned a bit.  He would never understand women.  It was the reason that despite his looks and little accent that he was still single.  He found the minds of women to be more complicated than a Serial Killer’s

“I watched the two of you this morning.  I have never seen Regina back down.”  Emma smirked.  “I’m sure she would have betted on herself as well.”  He shook his head a bit.  “The anger was real, for both of you, but I also saw how she looks at you when you were not looking, and you trust her.” 

Emma nearly choked on her beer. She sputtered all over the table.  Graham gave her some napkins to wipe her mouth and then added dryly.  “Professionally, I mean, you trust her professionally.”  She looked at him again as if he grew a horn in the middle of his forehead. Then she realized he was right.  It was the reason why she called Regina in the first place, not because of her part in the case, but because of her mind. 

“Yeah, sure, can we not talk about Agent Mills and myself in any kind of non-professional matter Agent Hunter?”  He took her hand. The fact that she did not pull away immediately, but only a few seconds later, told him where he stood with the blonde. 

“Can you please call me Graham? I am afraid that this case is entirely about you and Regina, including your personal lives.”  He informed her with a grim smile.  Emma sat back to observe him for a moment.  He did the hand thing. Now it was time for her to use her superpower.  “Do you trust Regina?”

“Aye,” He answered.  “What did she tell you about our breakup?”  It was a strange question Graham thought, but Emma knew better.  She will find out how much she can trust, the both of them. 

“She said that the two of you drifted apart. When she was offered the job in DC, she took it.”  Emma smiled, the Agent was telling the truth.  “When did she tell you this?”  Graham realized he had no idea what Emma’s end game was or what she was actually asking.  _Women_. 

“Now, when she briefed us on the plane.”

 

Emma ducked her head a bit.  “Did she tell you I can tell if someone lies to me?  It is my superpower, right now Graham, you are lying to me.  Not a good way to build a connection with me.”  Graham listened to the words. She used connection instead of trust.  Trust would be something that she did not give easy.  Trust would be more important to her than love.

“Alright, I asked her a few years ago.  She is so attractive, but she never goes out.  She told me that she had someone.  She told me about you, she told me about Allison.  I have met Allison. She looks a lot like you…”  Emma only shook her head, looking into space.  “Did she tell you why we drifted apart?”  Graham held his breath for a moment as Emma’s piercing green eyes met his soft brown once.  “She said you argued about life choices.”  He saw the moisture in Emma’s eyes.  He also saw her relax.  Whatever she really wanted to know, she had her answer.  They sat in a comfortable quietness for a while.  Graham ordered two more beers.  The frown on Emma’s face, her body language and the way she was resting her fist under her chin told him she was contemplating what to say to him.  She started to drink her fresh beer.

 

“Fine, ask away.”  He relaxed, opened himself as much as he could.  “What made you think your initial cases were connected?”  Emma rolled her eyes at him. “Really?”  He smiled, _so that was where Regina learned it_.  It was an out of character question she asked instead of telling someone that she thought they were incredibly stupid.  Emma let out a breath.  “All this is either in the case files or in my official statement that the D. A recorded this morning.  I am sure you were briefed?” He pressed his lips together.

“Yup, but I want you to tell me?”  Emma made a gesture with her hands. 

“Her eyes.  Heather Cole’s eyes.  I saw that Melissa May’s eyes were green. Doctor Lucas said that Heather’s hair was cut.  When I looked into her eyes, all I saw was Regina, I knew, in my gut, I knew I was right.”

“She cares for you.  I see it in the way she looks at you.”  Emma rolled her eyes.

“What about Allison, did Regina place her in protective custody?”  Graham watched the Detective. He saw real concern for a woman, Emma did not even know. 

“No, apparently they had a big fight about it, but eventually Allison agreed to a bodyguard.  Regina is using one of her mother’s details.”  Emma raised an eyebrow as she made an _ugh_ sound. 

“Bet that went down well with the Senator.”  Graham chuckled. 

“Perhaps that is how we can catch this guy.  I will fly Cora down here. Then watch you and Regina tear the entire city apart?”  Emma pulled her eyes into slits. 

“If you bring that woman close to me, I will chop you up myself and use you for bait.”  He gave a full laugh. 

“So there, we already have two things in common.” Emma drank to that.  The conversation was becoming easier for a while. She answered his questions without care.  Then he dropped the bomb. 

 

“What happened in Hampton?”  Emma went stiff.  “You said in your statement that you think he is reliving a day.”  He looked at his notes.

“I already gave my testimony to A.D.A Marsh. 

“ _This is all about James and me and what happened in Hampton_.”  He quoted her from this morning.  Her face became a mask. For the life of him, he could not tell what she felt, nor what she would do or say next. To his amazement, she relaxed, took a sip of her beer ordering two more.  She waited until the beers were in front of them.  She smiled.  If he knew her at all, he would have taken that as the queue to run. 

 

“What did Regina say to you, before she got into the elevator?”  His mind was racing.  He was a profiler, where was Emma going? 

“She warned me not to ask you about Hampton.” Emma smiled, then nodded.  She got up and took her beer. Graham stopped her.  “Emma, you need to talk to me about this.”  She gave him a cold look.  “No, I don’t. Agent Mills knows what happened, so does the A.D.A.  All I need to do is to tell you to go fuck yourself.”  As she said it, she broke her full beer on the edge of the table over him. All the content landed in his lap. 

 

There was a roar of laughter in the bar; several twenties got exchanged.  Emma got a few cheers as she walked out.  She stood on the pavement and clicked her neck in.  Someone called to her. She looked up.  “Hey, Jimmy.”  He was all smiles.  “Need a ride home Detective?”  She was tired all of a sudden.  “Yeah.”  She got into the front seat of his beat-up Golf, as was her custom.  “Big case?”  Jimmy asked as he watched her close her eyes.

“No, big asshole.”

“I’m sorry, Detective.  Was it Jennings?”  Emma opened her eyes to look at the driver.  “Why the hell did you ask that?”  He shrugged. 

“The guy is very protective of you.  Defends your honor every time you get bad mouthed.  Rumor is that you helped him after the whole puking thing.  The Officer has a crush on you Detective.”  She blew out a breath. 

“I know Jimmy, is he ruining my reputation?”  He looked at Emma, but she was smiling.  “I’m sure that whatever happened in the bar a moment before would set everything straight.”  Emma leaned back again.  “So how is business?”  She asked him. 

“How is your mood?”

“Whaat?”  He laughed at Emma’s expression. Swiping his long curly brown hair out of his eyes.  

“If you piss on half the Officers during the day, I have a great night.  Tonight, was okay.”  Emma could not believe it.  Jimmy was every cop at the Stations’ designated driver.  He was not a real cabby, but he was reliable and though his car was old, he kept it clean.  Emma always thought of him as a hippy.  A peace sign painted on the front of the car, he wore a charm around his neck.  A guy just trying to make a living.  His fares were less than Uber and cabs.  Emma knew that he sometimes needed to sleep in a shelter.  During Winter, a lot of cops left food for him in the car. No one knew if he would have a meal or a good fare that day.  So, they all tried to look after him.

 

“Well, Jimmy, you are going to have a great few weeks.” He smiled.  He always enjoyed her eruptions. It made for good conversations.  She thanked him as he pulled up at her apartment. Emma paid her bill and gave him an extra tip. He beamed at her.

 

Spencer was right, she thought.  She invested eight months of life in this case. Tonight, was the first night she would have a bare wall.  _So, what now Swan?  Drink beer and look at the empty wall as if you are some cat lady_?  She decided to go to sleep, she merely took off her clothes and fell into the bed when her phone rang.  She looked at the caller ID. “Yeah?” She asked. “You sound tired.”

“It’s been quite a week, and your fuck head partner was the cherry on an inadequately baked cake.”  Regina was relieved.  Emma was home safe. She was not angry at her. She sounded a lot more like the Emma that Regina knew. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No, I might express myself in a manner I should not.”

“Emma…”  Emma interrupted her.  “It is not pointed at you Regina, I know you, I know that you kept Hampton a secret and I appreciate it.” 

Regina started the next conversation slowly.  “Emma, he was only doing his job, something that someone needs to do.”  Emma breathed in deep. 

“What do you need to know?”  The delay in Regina’s response told Emma that it was going to be another fucked question.

“I need to know who you are sleeping with?”  The question was not too unexpected. 

“I cannot tell you right now Regina.  I haven’t spoken to her today.  It is not only my life that will be affected by this, but it will also be hers as well.”  Regina understood.  “Alright, is she protected?”

“Yes, I have someone that is looking out for her.”

“On or off the books?”  Emma looked up at the ceiling.  “Off the books.”  It made Regina sad.  “Is there anyone you trust besides Neal?”  Emma thought about the question. “No, Neal is it.” Regina felt emotion welling up inside of her. There was a time she had that fragile trust as well.  “Alright, can we speak more tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Emma answered. She thought Regina was going to say goodnight then she asked another question.  “The bet this morning, it was about me?”  Emma gave a little laugh.  “Yes, it was about you. I am sorry, I should have warned you about Killian.  He is actually a really nice person and a good cop. He is awfully full of himself, thinks he is god’s special gift to women. The sad part is that most of the time, the women think that too, so he never stops.”

“He is quite the character,” Regina answered diplomatically. 

“We betted on whose head you would rip off first.  I betted on Killian.”  Regina gave her a throaty laugh.  “In that case Miss Swan, you can buy me lunch tomorrow. Please join me?” Emma took the olive branch. She knew Regina would ask her questions then.

“Thank you, Agent Mills. It would be nice.” Regina shook her head, said good night.  They had a truce, for now, neither woman expected it to last beyond tomorrow, but at least they were civil.

***********

Emma walked into the station with her coffee in one hand, her satchel in the other. She had her shades on, a beanie, black caterpillars and cargo pants with a polar neck and an oversized jacket.  She heard the smirks and whispers as she walked past the various desks.  She knew behind her bets were going on.  Everyone referred to this particular outfit as her _war uniform_.  Anyone with half a brain knew to stay out of the war zone.  As she got to her desk, Graham appeared.  “Really?”  She asked. 

“I need to apologize.”  She ignored him walking past him to place her bag on her desk. 

“You really are going to harass me _before_ I had my coffee?”  He gave her his most charming I-give-up-smile.  “Agent Hunter, go away.”  She waved him off, he remained.  Neal came past, saw her outfit, made a face and dragged Graham away. He explained to Hunter as they made their way back to the boardroom.  As they walked in, they were hit by a cold front that was not there a moment before.  Neal looked at the A.D.A.  _Oh Jesus!_  “A.D.A Marsh good morning.” She gave him a _save it_ look. “This is SSA Hunter, and this is…”

“I know who she is.”  Gillian cut him off.  “Is Emma here?”  He swallowed.  “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded to him as she made her way to the door.  Spencer walked in as she stepped out.  “What is on your schedule after your interview with Detective Swan?”  She looked back into the room.  “I will help Belle.” He turned his head slightly. He missed something. When he looked at Neal and Graham, he could see they were clueless. Regina had a nonchalant attitude. She was sitting down, going through some documents. “Alright.”

 

Gillian left without looking back.  When she saw Emma all her courage deflated.  She stopped at the detective’s desk.  “We need to talk.”  She said as she made her way to one of the interrogation rooms.  Emma followed.  When they were alone, Gillian lashed out. “What the fuck Emma?”  Emma’s body language said that right now she could not give a shit.  She slept four hours more than usual but felt terrible.  She had a restless night filled with nightmares and flashbacks.  “Gillian, I warned you…”

“No Emma, warning me would be to tell me a maniac is out there murdering women that looks like you and your ex. You called her instead of me. You should have told me that either you or I am his next targets.”  Emma let her rant. 

“Gillian, would you have believed me?”  Emma did not wait for an answer.  “I asked Regina because I knew she would be unbiased, she was.  She told me off. She said a rookie would do a better job until I showed her the photos. It is his motive. It was the missing part.  You know damn well I could not tell you that without evidence!”  She saw the change in Gillian’s posture. Emma got up to place her arms around the woman.  “As to answer your question, it is no.”  Gillian only rested her head on Emma’s chest.  “You cannot know what my question is.”  Emma kissed her temple.  “You wanted to know if my interest in you is only because of your looks and the answer is no.”  Gillian tried to stop her tears. “As I recall, I actually pushed you away because of the way you looked.”  Gillian knew that was true. She also knew how she and Emma landed up in bed together the first time. Neither woman ever thought it would be anything more than what it was, a one-night stand.  One night of incredible sex, but still only one night.  She was the one that asked Emma out again. 

 

“Do you really have people following me?”  Emma smiled. “Yes.”

“I have been looking since yesterday. I cannot see anyone.”  Emma wiped the tears from Gillian’s face.  “That is the entire point, Gillian, you are not supposed to see them.  But they are there. I saw them yesterday outside your building.  They will keep you safe. I can promise you that.”  Gillian got sadness in her eyes.

“So, you care enough to have me followed and protected, but you cannot tell me you love me because she broke your heart?”  _She broke more than that,_ Emma thought but kept the comment to herself.

“Gillian, I have never hidden my affections for you, it is relatively easy to tell someone that you love them, it is quite something else to show them. I hoped that I had shown you what you mean to me?”  Gillian could not deny that Emma was kind to her.  She made romantic gestures, spoiled her rotten on her birthday and special occasions.  The other day Emma sent her flowers. She was willing to look at their personal lives after this case. It was not love, but Gillian knew that in itself was a commitment. That she should stop questioning Emma’s care. To accept that Emma might never tell her, she loved her, but she was certainly showing her.

“Alright.”  Her voice was soft, Emma still did not let go. 

“Did you tell Robin?”  Gillian sighed.  “Yes, he did not take it too well, but he neither condemned it.”  This was still the only thing that bothered Emma.  She sat down and pulled Gillian down with her so that she could sit in the blonde’s lap.

“Gillian, I’m sorry that you got dragged into this mess.”  She held onto Emma a bit more.  “I know. Thank you for thinking of my safety.”  Emma swallowed. 

“Agent Hunter asked me questions about Hampton.”  Gillian nodded, then got off Emma’s lap, she opened her briefcase and handed Emma a document.  Emma did not know if she should laugh or cry.  There on one piece of paper, one of the worst moments in her life was typed out in clinical form.  Gillian’s version was impersonal as if it happened to a stranger. The A.D.A merely recorded the facts.  Emma swallowed and signed it. “Thank you.”  Gillian did not want to stick to the subject too long.  “And Agent Mills?”  She questioned, trying hard to keep the anger out of her voice. 

“I am having lunch with her.  After Hunter’s asshole approach, Agent Mills called me to apologize.  She wants to know about us.”  Gillian closed her eyes. 

“Robin already subpoenaed your cell phone company.”  This time, Emma closed her eyes.  As she knew, her life was being ripped apart by strangers and friends alike. 

“Do you want to tell them about us or would you like me to do it?”  Gillian’s eyes were pleading.  She hated Regina out of principal. She could not think of anything that would change her mind, as for having a conversation with the woman, no she did not.  Emma kissed her on the lips this time. Gillian felt all the reassurance she needed in that single kiss.  “Thank you.” She gave Gillian a nod. They exited the room together.  Gillian made her way over to Belle’s office, Emma went to the boardroom.  She inhaled a few times before she knocked. 

 

Spencer called her in.  She stood with the paper in her hand. Neal saw she was shaking lightly.  He got up. Took the paper from her, he read through it, while Emma stood in the door. He looked at her. She tried to smile.  He handed the paper to Regina who read it through.  She rubbed her thumb in her hand again.  She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then turned to Emma.   “Thank you, Miss Swan.” Emma gave her a nod and left. 

The room was quiet as Neal took his seat.  “This is Detective Swan’s official statement on what happened in Hampton.  Neal and I have been aware of it. It does fit into the pattern.  The un-sub is reliving this day.  I will make copies of it.  All I ask is that you, please respect both Detective Swan and my privacy on the matter? Keep Emma’s emotions with regards to this in mind if you have any questions about it...”  The tone of Regina’s voice told everyone that it was a serious matter.  She looked straight at her partner when she spoke again.  “I do suggest if you have any questions about the matter that you address them to me or A.D.A Marsh. We will take it up with the Detective.”  All the men silently agreed, even without knowing what they agreed to. 

 

They spent most of the day going over the footage of the crime scenes.  Reading Emma’s notes.  By midday, Regina left to have lunch with Emma.  She took a few questions with her.  Emma drove them the short distance in silence.  She parked the car at a restaurant Regina knew Emma would not be caught in dead four years ago.  They walked in, Regina surprised when the owner came to greet Emma and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Emma, you look like shit, and you are too thin.”  He scolded her.

“I always wondered where your son got his charm from Connor, now I know.”  He turned to the brunette.  “This must be the infamous Regina.”  He took her hand and kissed it.  “Welcome my dear.”

“Thank you.”  He showed them to a table.  “I will take care of everything.”  He announced.  Regina gave her a frown.  The man did not offend her the way Killian did, but she did not like food being ordered for her.

 

“Precisely how many Irish men do you have in your life and is he related to Killian?”  Emma only gave her a look. “No.”

“What did he mean by taking care of everything?”  Emma understood.  Regina liked order and control.  “It means that he will prepare a meal, for you, only you.  It will be like a chef’s table, I can assure you, you will love the food.”  Regina cast her eyes down.  “Fine.”

Conner returned with a bottle of red wine that made Regina’s eyes widen, Emma looked at it and told Conner it is all right.  Regina wanted to object, but Emma interrupted. 

“The FBI is paying for this Conner, so only the best.”  He gave her a look, then turned his gaze at Regina.  “You bring the Feds into my establishment are you fucking brain-dead lass?”  She waved him off. 

“Relax Conner, she is here for a case, homicide, she has no interest in your _business_.  He walked off cursing Emma in Irish.

 

“Don’t ask?”  Emma stopped the question on Regina’s lips.  She closed her mouth and took a sip of the wine.  It was delicious.

“Do you love her?”  Emma looked up, frowning at Regina’s question which was soft, unsure.  “Gillian, do you love her?”  Emma let out a sigh.  She heard about this morning. It did not surprise her one bit that Regina placed two and two together.  Emma looked deeply at Regina.  She knew what she said to Gillian this morning, the fact was that she did care about Gillian, but trust her? Emma knew she could not, without that trust, there could not be love. 

“No,” Emma replied softly. 

“Does she know?”  Emma raked her hair back. 

“I care about her. She knows that.  I have never told her that I love her and she is aware of that.”  Regina left the topic. She understood all too well what Emma meant. 

 

“There are things about this case that I need to ask?” Emma indicated for her to go ahead.  “Why is he reliving that day?” Emma did not need to think about it since she figured out what he was doing, she had been thinking of the answer.  “The worst day.”

“Excuse me, dear?”  Emma looked away for a moment, then asked.  “What, so far in your life has been the worst day ever?”  She saw Regina’s jaw lock.  There were a couple Emma could think of.  The day Regina graduated from University, and her mother only sent her a card instead of being there.  Or when she told Cora that she was a Lesbian. After Cora told Regina that her unscrupulous choices would ruin the Senator’s career, she all but banished the young woman from her life.  Regina knew the answer, but she could not tell Emma.  She also knew Emma would know if she lied.  “Number two on my list would be that day.” 

Emma smiled sadly.  “Is that what you call in in the task force, _that day_?”  Emma said the words with signs of exclamation marks with her hands.  She shook her head.  _What a fuck-up_.  “As for the worst day, that would be my number two as well, but I think for James it was number one.  It was the day he lost me.  As fucked up as it is.”  Regina turned her head. When she continued speaking to Emma, her eyes were cast down, her fingers rubbing together.  Emma knew the signs.  Regina was thinking, running with the idea. 

“So, it becomes the unsub's obsession.  James lost you, to me and he is reinventing the day because he wants you to make a different choice?” Emma swallowed more wine. 

“As I said, fucked up.  Though, his worst day is 21 June 2013. He is blaming me that James killed himself.  In his mind, if I chose James, he would have never killed himself. Our un-sub would never have been alone. He lost the only person that understood him, that he could identify with.”  Regina sat back, thinking of the words. 

“This is why we need you, Miss Swan.”  Emma did not want to read too much into the words.  “So, you agree?” Regina’s eyes fell on her. She could sense the current between them. “Your analysis seems sound.”  Emma did not want to pull away, but neither did she want to continue looking into those deep pools.  There was too much there, too many things unsaid between them.  “You are the profiler Agent Mills.”

Emma leaned over and poured them more wine.  “I am trying to get you back into the case.”  Emma did not look up from her task. 

“It is not procedure. I could become a witness.” Emma answered.  Regina ran her tongue over her top lip.  “That is why your girlfriend is sitting there now.”  Emma’s head shot up.  “She’s not…”  Regina only gave her a look.  “The A.D.A is there to oversee that any evidence and the case does not become a personal matter.  I assume Miss Marsh can do her job?”  Emma pressed her lips together. 

“I assure you Agent Mills that the A.D.A is extremely professional. She knows her law.”  Regina raised her glass, a moment before the red lips met the red liquid, she glanced at Emma, “Good to know that Miss Swan.” 

 

At that point, Emma was ready to snap back.  Regina observed every movement, every muscle that moved in Emma’s face.  “I will not compromise the case, Agent Mills.” Regina set her glass down.  “If I thought you would, this conversation would have never taken place.”  It was a statement of fact.  “You have eight months ahead of us. Your clarity and understanding of this predator are evident in the revised profile and evaluation about him.”  Emma thought for a moment that there might have been a compliment in there somewhere.  “I only came to that conclusion when I read the last file.”  Regina turned her head to study Emma. 

“You only figured out his motivation when you read Paula Jennings’s file?”  Emma acknowledged the question.  “Well, Miss Swan, you always have displayed remarkable abilities when it comes to the criminal mind.”  This time Emma was sure there was a compliment in there. 

“Would it kill you to tell me I am a fucking good cop?”  The Agent only raised an eyebrow to the question. It made Emma smile.  Regina realized in that instant that she missed the blonde’s smile. 

“Make no mistake Miss Swan. I am running the show.  If I ask you to leave the boardroom, I expect you to listen.  Are we clear?” 

Emma nodded, then asked, “I thought Knight was running this operation?”  Regina looked at her in a manner that suggested she had a secret and no one else knew.  Her eyes sparkled when she told Emma.  “Cooper knows what is good for him. He gets all the credit.”  It was good enough for the Detective.  She trusted Regina… The thought got stuck in her mind; then she corrected herself.  _She trusts Agent Mills_.

 

Their food arrived. Connor took pride in watching Regina take her first bite. She looked up at him in surprise.  He gave her a wide smile, then handed something to Emma with a nod.  It was now her turn to ask questions.  “How do you stand your partner?”  Regina had to think for a moment as to which partner Emma was referring, but then she recognized that it was the object of the question.  _Well, well, she has learned a lot_.  “Easily, he dresses better than you, and he actually keeps my mother off my back. _Since we make_ _such a stunning couple_.”  Emma could see Cora utter the expression, Regina gave a good imitation of her mother.  “Is he any good?”  Regina did not have to think about the question.  “He is much like Neal, except…”

“… He dresses better, yeah, Regina I got that.”  She received a warm smile. All of a sudden four years seemed not so long. 

“He challenges me. He keeps me centered. We work well together. He takes uplifting criticism far better than you.”

“Uplifting criticism?  God, you told me I am the most obnoxious, ill-mannered deranged lunatic you have ever met!”  Regina placed her knife and fork neatly at the side of her plate.  She wiped her mouth on the linen serviette looking at Emma amused. 

“Oh, that was just criticism, dear.”  Emma shook her head with a small smile. 

“Did you enjoy the meal?”  Regina tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the table.  “That, Miss Swan, was without a doubt, the best meal you have ever given me.”  Emma took the compliment.  “I will tell Conner. He will be pleased.”

 

“Speaking of Mr. Sheenan, do I need to ask the local FBI to investigate you and your obvious connections to the Irish Mob?”

“Really?”  Emma asked, annoyed.  “If they dig deep enough Agent Mills, they will find your involvement with them as well, that I am afraid, would be a bit of a career damper.  Besides, it is only a meal.”

“What about the box?”  Emma sighed.  _Yes, the box_.  “That is the reason I asked about Graham.  He told me you have a girlfriend that you have one of Cora’s details to look after her.”  Emma could see the shift in posture.  She held up her hand.  “It is none of my business, Agent Mills.  I was merely wondering; Miss Allison is not the only target.  Who is looking after you?”  The concern Regina heard in the softly spoken question took her by surprise, but then, she was told of Emma’s reactions to the Pierce and Jennings murders.  In a way, she cared.  She tried to find Julia Pierce alive. The woman was a person to her, not a case.  “I can take care of myself, Miss Swan.”  Emma breathed in deeply.  She took Regina’s hand. She needed her to understand.  The warmth of Regina’s handmade Emma shiver. She tried to hide the fact about how Regina could still affect her.

“Regina, I am scared.  I read the interview with Miss Sheldon. What she said about Cherise Middleton.  She was a well-traveled, well-educated woman that did not take shit of any kind from any person and yet, she got into a man’s car, then he raped and killed her.”  Regina could sense the tension in Emma’s hands. She heard the concern in her voice.   She did not see the fear, but then again, Emma had become so equipped at hiding emotions. 

 

“What is your point, Emma?”  Emma pushed the box over to Regina.  “It is not Tiffany’s, but I had it made for you.”  The box contained a simple necklace in gold with a round pendant.  Regina took it out. Her mind was racing. She looked at Emma with composed, confused eyes.  Emma took the necklace from her hand.  The design was in two parts, a wave motive separating the smooth surface from the jagged bottom part.  Emma pulled on the delicate pendant where it slightly displayed the two sections.  Regina could see what it was in a moment.  “There is a tracker inside. Here is a panic button…” Emma showed her the small Zirconia at the back that served as a panic button.  Emma placed the jewelry in Regina’s hand. She closed her fists protectively over Regina’s hand. Regina felt the warmth.  “Please wear it?” 

The dark Agent did not know how to reply.  She did not need to ask who would be tracking her.  Emma handed her a paper-thin knife designed in red and black.  “This you can slip into those suspenders you ware or into your boot like me.”  Regina held the pocket knife in her hand, admiring the design.  Knives were not her thing. It was Emma’s.  She was sure that at any given time the blonde Detective had two guns on her, at least four well-concealed knives.  “Thank you.”  It was a whisper. It was all the Agent could manage, Emma patted her hand, then got up to speak to Conner and settle the bill. Regina knew the reason why the head of the Irish mob kissed a Boston Detective on the cheek, but she still found it unnerving. She knew Emma would take him down if the opportunity ever presented itself. Conner Sheenan would not hesitate a moment to kill Emma if he thought she was a threat.  Theirs was a fragile relationship, build on love for Will.

 

Regina thanked him herself for the lovely meal as she made her way outside with Emma.  “Do you actually think I would be wearing suspenders in this weather Miss Swan?”  Where Emma stood next to her, she leaned back a bit to shamelessly look at Regina’s contours.  She pulled back with a smirk.  “I do believe that with your current perfectly fitted skirt, that you are wearing suspenders and a G-string, my Evil Queen.”  The nickname took all the sting out of Regina’s embarrassment.  She gave Emma almost a full smile as she slapped her on her arm before they got into the car and drove back to the station.  Dull blue eyes watched them.

 

Before they separated, Regina took Emma by the arm.  “I will have the Boston FBI branch supply a detail for Miss Marsh; she is the A.D.A after all.” This got her a small smile. Emma thanked her for the gesture.  She still wanted to ask Emma what precautions she took for herself, but she knew it would be useless. Emma did not ask for help. If it was provided without her consent, the results would be dire.  Regina had learned it the hard way.  It was her worst day. She doubted Emma had ever forgiven her for it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All their hard work gets rewarded.  
> Warning: The aspects that make up a serial killer is, more than 2 murders, on separate occasions with a cool off period.  
> The Macdonald Triad states that three common behaviors during childhood can point to murder-prone children: bed wetting past the age of five, animal cruelty and fire-setting and recently, a head injury or head trauma as a child was added. All these aspects are being exposed in this chapter.  
> So warnings of child abuse, cruelty towards animals. And other nasty implications.  
> The stats I used are from; Serial Killers: The Method and Madness of Monsters.  
> Peter Vronsky  
> Direct quote from (Once Upon A Time S3E20)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much, everyone, for the comments and kudos. I normally try to respond to all the comments. I just did not get the time. I have read every one and thank you.  
> I have worked on this for a long time. A lot of research went into it and I apologize if the plot is too thin, since some already figured out who the killer might be. For those readers, the next four chapters will be the unraveling of who the killer is.

**Chapter 12**

Emma had cleared her caseload paperwork, as well as Neal’s.  She felt utterly useless.  She knew that HQ Homicide took over all their new cases for the time being.  She had not been called into the boardroom.  Then she heard the shrill. She jumped up. Her eyes met with Belle’s. She had a printout in her hand.  “I found him!”  She pushed the paper into Emma’s hand.  She read it while Belle ran off to inform the team.

 

 _Jefferson Hatter_.  He was two years older than her.  In his young DMV photo, he looked like any other kid.  Short hair, pale blue eyes.  She considered the young face.  _What changed you_?  Regina told her one day that people were made evil, they were not born that way.  Scanning the youth’s file, she had to agree with her mentor’s statement.  She did not realize Regina was standing next to her, thinking the same thing.  She only became aware of what was going on when Regina’s authoritative, voice carried through the room as she barked out instructions.  She had all the Officers assigned to tasks already.  “Jennings?”  The rookie was there in a flash. Everyone wondered how he got the job of liaison between the task force and the call center.  His job was to pass on all the information, to other Officers would then follow up.

They had before now followed up on a few notes Emma recorded. Regina spoke to Jessica Durant.  They also had a trace on all the numbers they knew he was using.  Now they would be talking to everyone from his grade one teacher to the guy that cuts his hair.  “Right people, we have a name, Jefferson Hatter.  His last known address is that of his grandmother in Cincinnati. Find him!”  They started working. Regina complimented Belle on finding him. “Jennings, stay with Miss French, as soon as she has anything you pass it to the call center, then you bring it to me.”  He nodded and took up a seat beside Belle.

Jefferson Hatter’s history was slowly coming together. The Officers at the call center passed information to Belle, who drew up a history of Jefferson.

 Jefferson A Hatter, grew up in the Midwest, then moved to Cincinnati with his mother and two older sisters to live with his grandmother, after his father left. During his childhood, Jefferson and his older sisters lived with their disciplinarian grandmother, alone, whenever their mother would travel to look for work. The grandmother _baptized_ them on these occasions.  It was just short of drowning the children.  It left all of them with a fear of water. This intense fear caused him to, on regularity wet his bed. Causing more shame and reprimands from his domineering mother and grandmother. _Behind every successful serial killer, there was a fucked-up mother_.  Emma thought. _Son of Sam and Ted Bundy, being the rare exceptions of boys growing up in a normal, loving environment_. Emma continued to read.  

They were poor. Social services, check in with them regularly.  His mother and grandmother were Catholic. They raise the children in the strictest way possible.  Injuries sustained was reported frequently from the school, he was punished for any _perceived sin_ with a cane. Whether it was his hands or legs, it did not seem to worry the women at all.  He kept to himself, but other children teased him mercilessly.  His clothes were hand-me-downs. Since he only had older sisters, the boy often found himself in shorts and shirts made from his sisters’ dresses.  Pink with flower motifs. Jefferson was sporadically visited by his violent, alcoholic father who would supply him with magazines depicting sadomasochistic pornography. It gave the boy a let out for the violence he was raised within. During every beating he endured from his mother or grandmother, he would place himself in those bondage images. Masturbating afterwards. His need for a girl’s touch and attention grew. Most of the awkward boy’s advances were met with kindness but always ended in rejection. During High School, he was also bullied by his peers for his shyness around girls.  His _virgin status_ exploited by other boys.

His sexual fantasies of raping, torturing, and cutting women developed throughout his formative teenage years. If he could not receive what he craved willingly, he would take it by force. It was still all fantasies, but his depiction and views of women became more instilled with violence, rather than love.  Around this time, his grandmother discovered his sadomasochistic drawings, as well as the pornographic photographs of bondage acts provided by his absent father. She _punished_ him for his scandalous sin by hitting him with a rolling pin.  The young Jefferson placed up a defensive arm, which she bruised so badly that it remained an awful purple-blue for weeks. Then she struck him in the head, leaving him unconscious with a skull fracture, which a Doctor only picked up a year later, due to another injury. The initial assault was never reported neither did he receive medical attention at the time of the incident. He was first committed for psychiatric evaluation when he was ten due to frequent outbursts of blind rage, that earned him the nickname _Mad Hatter_.  He lived with the name for his entire schooling. 

 

His grades were good. Everyone said he was a smart, quiet boy.  He excelled in his drama and art classes.  He took film and video classes in high school. He won an award for a documentary he filmed on street gangs and violence. He excelled at role-playing.  Teachers proudly stated that he could transform from one character to another in front of their eyes. It gave him the ability to melt in with any crowd. His fantasies and role-play continued after his grandmother died. No one noticed that he was performing acts of sadomasochism.  Cutting himself on his legs with his left hand, while torturing an animal with his right hand. Releasing his sexual tension over the corpse of the mutilated animal. He would at times take the decomposed bodies of the animals and set them alight on top of his grandmother’s grave.  He would, on occasion, defecate on the grave.  Most likely the only emotional release, he could express towards the woman who had abused, frighten and broken him over the years.

The only girl to every pay him real attention, Louise McGee, was gang-raped by members of the football team.  The introverted, nerdy girl retracted even more into herself.  All men frightened her, including the timid Jefferson.  She committed suicide at the end of their senior year.  It devastated Jefferson. The storeroom that held the seasonal gear of the football team was set on fire. An investigation revealed that lighter fluid was sprayed under the door.  The door itself was ignited with a Molotov-cocktail, containing gasoline. It was never proven that Jefferson was involved, but due to his friendship with Louise, he was the Police’s main suspect. After High School, he moved to New York to fulfill his dream of acting on Broadway. Belle could find only one play where he was cast as an extra.  His name did not even appear on the program. Then the trail stopped.  Until at twenty-three Elwood Toole starts working at the VA.

 

“I need something for those missing five years,”  Regina announced to the cops that were calling and following up on everything.  Emma was one of them.  She knew what questions to ask, who to speak to, but even she came up short.  She knew that the task force was looking at the Uber and cell phone information that was subpoenaed. Belle was in there with them.  When the shift changed, Emma went to sit at her desk, drawing his timeline, making anagrams out of his name and the alias names he was using.  She also ran the facts of the serial killers whose names he exploited.  How they were caught, how many victims they had, anything that stood out.

Jefferson Hatter had all the typical commonalities of a serial killer. Bedwetting, animal cruelty, arson, and head trauma as a child. Those aspects in combination with his alcoholic father, his grandmother and mother’s abuse, contributing to the madness of an obsessed killer.  Emma ran some statistics in her mind.  _Sixty-nine percent of sexual killers had a history of alcohol abuse in the family.  Eighty-two percent of serial killers daydreamed, during which time they would often masturbate.  Seventy-one percent of killers incarcerated, acknowledged feeling isolated in their childhood, the number increased to seventy-seven in their adolescent years.  Forty-six percent of killers, displayed cruelty towards animals, fifty-six percent set fires, fifty-two percent wetted their beds after the age of five. Forty-two percent of sexual murders reported physical abuse as a child, seventy-four percent, reported psychological abuse and seventy-three percent were subjected to sexually stressful trauma. Ranging from molestation of either gender, watching one of their parents having sex with another partner. And being introduced to sex at a young age, mostly fathers “treating” a boy to his first sexual encounter by hiring a prostitute for the boy.  Forty-seven percent of killers had their father leave before the age of twelve. A mother as the dominant parent reared its head in sixty-six percent of cases._  Emma stopped her thought process, to dwell on a matter she hardly ever considered.  If there was a twenty-question pamphlet for serial killers, she would most likely tick all the boxes. Then the small print would pop-up: **If you answered _yes_ to three or more of these questions, you are probably a serial killer**. She smirked at the thought. She had killed people. During the war, there were the faceless enemies.  There were the men she murdered without a thought that had faces. She had shot a suspect as a cop who pulled a gun on Neal.  All those dead men and she did it without a grain of remorse.  However, she hit a pigeon with her bike and killed the bird.  She pulled her Vulcan over.  Picked up the small body of the dead animal and cried.  Emma took the dead animal home to bury it at a nearby park.  The guilt of a simple dead bird stayed with her much longer than the men whose faces she sometimes saw in her nightmares. She sighed. _Was that the difference?  Empathy, guilt, tears_? As a teen in the foster system, she had fantasies of killing some of her foster parents.  Some people should never have children. Ed Gein, Albert DeSalvo, Richard Ramírez, Gary Ridgway, hell, even BTK all had horrible mothers accompanied with violent, abusive childhoods. _Evil Isn't Born, It's Made_ Emma thought. She sat back for a moment, processing all the information she received that day in combination with her background knowledge.

There was a side note in his medical file, written by a psychiatrist. “Jefferson will either become the next Anthony Hopkins in Hollywood, kill himself or become a serial killer.  I have never worked with a child this young, that shows so little emotion regarding himself. At this early stage of his life, he had already learned to present a persona that would be acceptable in society. A compromise to make the rare person that shows him some kindness or affection, feel at ease. So very opposite of the angry, lost boy that seeks his mother’s approval, only to be shunned by her, every time.”

Emma understood this sad truth.  Striving to impress, only to be pushed aside for something better. Foster parents that sent her back after they conceived their own child, not even to mention her birth parents that had left her at the side of the road.  By now she should be immune to rejection and abandonment… She thought she was, that her walls were strong enough, until that fateful argument with Regina, four years ago. Regina never knew. The blonde walked out of their shared apartment and fell apart.  It took her four hours to get to Neal, who lived less than ten miles away.  By the time Neal opened the door for Emma, Regina had already started looking for her. During those four hours, Emma got her first black jacket, replacing the red one, which felt like a warm, sensual and a comfortable lover around her body. The armor she became content to wear. Like Regina, like her love.  Emma had never pulled it on again. She understood Jefferson, far more than what she would have liked to admit. With the black jacket came a different Emma. One that cared less about what she said and did. It did not matter in any case, did it? She became a woman who was so enclosed that no one would ever dare to approach. If no one could get close to her, there was no one that could hurt and reject her. It sounded so simple in her head. Pulling on her new armor. Her heart was broken for the last time. She knew all too well what she was now.  The Dark Swan suited her.  One question remained in her mind, regarding Jefferson; _Who are you now and who do you want to be_?  She scribbled several things down before she decided to go home.

**********

Inside the boardroom, the atmosphere was loaded with anxiety.  The Uber and cell phone activity in combination showed that he often stopped near Emma’s apartment over the last three years.  It was only a fraction of the information they had.  Gillian and Regina were in an argument about Emma’s safety at the current moment. None of the others wanted to interrupt. 

“She needs to be placed into protective custody!”  Gillian yelled into Regina’s face, and the brunette calmly answered that Emma would never allow it. That she was needed here, in the room with them.

Gillian exploded.  “You don’t know her. You do not know that!  She will listen to me. If I ask her, she will do it.”  The words got Neal’s attention as well.   His frown was prominent on his face.  Regina looked at him. 

“Neal?”  He realized over the week that even with four years of separation, Regina knew Emma. Even the Dark Emma. Gillian, he shook his head mentally. Gillian has not even scraped the surface of Emma Swan. He could distance himself from Regina as much as he thought he should.  However, she was smart. She was doing a good job thus far. The Agent also knew Emma’s defenses far better than the A.D.A. Neal shook his head and spoke in his low voice. 

“I am sorry, Miss Marsh, but she will not do it, even if I ask her.”  It settled the matter for Regina. Gillian, however, had no idea of the bond between the two, she only knew they had been friends for a long time. 

“Neal, I know she is your partner, but I disagree.”  Neal looked at her sadly, if Gillian pushed Emma into a corner, she was going to lose.  She would walk away, as she had so many times before.  The consequences were irrelevant.

 

Everyone was aware that the argument was about more than merely Emma’s safety.  Regina irritably shrugged. Neal saw the victory in Gillian’s eyes.  He discerned it would be short-lived. Spencer and August knew it as well, either of them could order Emma to do it, they both knew that she would hand in her badge and go straight to Will. It was not a friendship they understood or approved of. However, one did not push the Dark Swan because if you did, she became unpredictable. Will Scarlet held some kind of trust where Emma was concerned.  Spencer would have thought Gillian learned the lesson the day she rubbed Emma the wrong way, and she handed her badge to the A.D.A.  He never had an issue with Emma and her lifestyle, she kept a low profile, where her private life was concerned, but Gale and now it seemed Gillian was two different matters.  He looked to August, then Cooper for assistance, Cooper made the call.  “I will call Detective Swan in tomorrow. I will propose it to her.” 

 

Gillian felt relief. Regina felt sorry for the woman.  She could see the A.D.A was in love with Emma. She also knew that her attacks and animosity toward herself was because Gillian knew. The A.D.A knew Emma cared for her. But it was not love.  Gillian could not have it all, because Regina broke the blondes’ heart four years ago, with it, the little trust that Emma held towards people. Regina’s logical mind never solved the problem of their argument that night.  Her request was simple.  Emma needed help after the assault. Regina realized, the day Emma picked her up at Logan, that this woman would never get hurt again.  Some part _of her Emma_ was never coming back.   Regina and Neal understood, that not only would Emma not hide from this asshole, but she would never trust anyone with her own safety.  

********

Emma was called to the boardroom the moment she came in the next day.  _Finally_!  She thought, the moment she stepped foot into the room, she knew, whatever it was, she was not going to appreciate it.  She looked to Neal. His expression calmed her a bit.  He was not worried, but he expected a fuckup.  Therefore, she was prepared when SSA Knight addressed her.  “Detective we received the cell and Uber activity of the suspect.”  Her eyes lit up. 

“Great, can I have a look at it?  There might be a pattern.”  She watched his face.  “Oh.  I see, you already have a pattern.”  She thought about it for a moment.  “He is stalking me?”  It was a rhetorical question, but Cooper nodded.  Emma pushed her hair back, her tell sign. 

“The FBI wants to place you in protective custody.”  Her head swung to Regina, but Regina turned her head casting her eyes down.  Emma frowned.  She looked at Spencer.  “Sir?”  His face was a mask.  _So, it was not his idea either_.  She brought her attention back to Cooper. 

“With all due respect Senior Special Agent Knight, but I cannot do that.  It is one thing having me sit on my ass out there. It is entirely another story to shut me out completely.”  Cooper smiled at her.  “But that is not why you are saying no?”  She was starting to hate profilers. Her jaw clenched. 

“I can take care of myself.”  She stated flatly.  Gillian tensed up. Emma noticed.  _Oh, for fuck sakes!  Really?_   She tried to stay calm, keeping the anger out of her voice.  “So, is he following me or sitting outside my house?”  She took a seat without being invited.

“He is stalking you,”  Regina answered.  “Your home, the office. He knows your routine.”

“That is why you need to be in protective custody.  Please, Emma?”  Emma looked at Gillian’s pleading dark eyes. Her eyes were so different from Regina’s. Now that she saw the brunette again, she noticed all the differences between them. Regina’s eyes would never plead like that. It never had before.  Emma swallowed. Pushing her emotions down. 

“A.D.A Marsh, this is hardly surprising.  He stalks his victims….” 

“Exactly!”  Gillian pleaded once more.  “You are a potential victim!” 

“So, are you! So, is Agent Mills! Will we be sharing a suite together to save the State some money?”  Gillian was taken back by the sarcasm in Emma’s voice.  She looked to Cooper. She did not want to make the situation worse by asking Regina, despite the fact that she was running the show. 

“How long has he been stalking me?”  Cooper looked at his notes, but Regina answered.  “Over three years. At night, he stops by your apartment.”  Emma looked pale for a moment. Then she jumped up. 

“Son of a fucking bitch!”  She ran from the room. Neal was on her heels.  He knew the expression as did Spencer and Regina.  Gillian looked relieved, Regina knew better.  “Well, I suggest we carry on until they return,”  Regina suggested dryly.

“Return?”  Gillian looked at Regina with a frown.  _Do you even know her_? Regina thought.  Spencer saved her the embarrassment.  “It is one of several expressions Detective Swan uses when she finds a lead.  She and Neal will be back later with the information.”  Gillian opened her mouth and then closed it again.

 

Neal made it to the car at the last minute as Emma drove off.  She was tapping the steering wheel impatiently, as she drove to her apartment.  Neal did not need to ask any questions. He knew how Emma ticked.  She parked the car and ran into the building.  Neal waited by the car.  She came back a few minutes later with a pair of binoculars.  She moved around until she found the spot.  She looked at her apartment. Through the binoculars, she saw what she was looking for. Emma moved her view from one window to the next. 

“Neal, please come and mark this spot?” She yelled at him. When he got to her with the markers, she gave him her phone.  “Call Regina. Tell her she needs to send uniforms to my apartment and interview all my neighbors.  Someone might have seen him. Perhaps someone can tell us what he looks like now.”

“What if it is someone far closer?” Emma frowned. “Perhaps he lives here Swan.” It did not occur to Emma that the killer could be that close. _Fuck!_ She dropped the binoculars to look at him, but he was already calling.  He was the only person besides herself that knew how her contact list worked. Regina was under Evil Queen, he was Asshole 3.

 

Emma ran back up to her apartment. She stood in the familiar space. Looking at her environment with a different perspective. She searched for something out of place, something that did not belong there. Her eyes fell on her knife collection. She closed her eyes. These were her custom knives that she made herself. Her thoughts stayed with the knives that were not on display. _Fuck!_   She turned her head to the table where she would sit after a long day, sharpening her knives to clear her mind by the methodical task. He would have had a clear view of her ingrained in her task if the curtains were not drawn close, something she often neglected to do.

After a while, she was sure that the fuck had never been in her home. Emma looked out of the window, then turned, took out two books from the bookcase next to the space where her murder board used to be.  She stared through the window to where Neal stood.  Emma did not feel violated, knowing he had been watching her, nor scared.  What bothered her was that this Jefferson might know her better than what she thought, that troubled her _immensely._   She knew she would either catch him, or he would catch her. Then kill her.  She needed to change a few of her tactics. 

*********

Jefferson was furious.  They took Emma off his case. His pale blue eyes rage in a darker shade. Now that fucking Regina bitch had a bodyguard on her fuck whore.  It was so obvious what the man walking next to Crystal was.  He could not believe that anyone would want to protect a fuck-whore. He had such high hopes and plans for her.  He was sure that Crystal would be the one to choose him.  She has been a survivor, like him, she would have killed the A.D.A without thinking about it.  He would be loved again.  His frustrations made him shake.  He did not want to drive back all the way to Boston empty-handed, but he knew he would have to think of another way to get to the woman.  He did not want to change his plans.  Killers got caught when they changed their plans.  He would wait.

 

It took him an entire day to spot the tails on Gillian.  They were far less obvious than Crystal’s bodyguard.  He knew he would not get past them.  He watched Emma and Regina.  Emma took her out to lunch. She gave the whore a gift.  His anger boiled to a point where he had to take medication to calm himself down.  His nostrils flared.  Everything was wrong.  Emma never received the gift he left her with the Pierce woman. Now she was courting the stupid bitch.  That angered him more than anything else.  Emma, his Emma was choosing Regina, all over.  He concluded what he needed to do.  What he should have done sooner.  He will take Emma and Regina now.  Emma would not make the same mistake twice.  She would know better this time.  He left.

***********

When Neal and Emma returned, she shoved the two books at Regina.  The one was a combat book about knives.  How to use them, how to care for them and more than that, how to fight with them. What kind of injuries different knives would cause.  The second book was a well-read book on serial killers.  She found his fucking name list in the index. The next name was not Gary Leon Ridgeway, but John Wayne Gacy.  Regina updated Belle as soon as the information came in.  They were closing in on him. They were applying more and more pressure. Experience indicated that as soon as their suspect started to feel the pressure, he would make a mistake. 

Belle ran the name in all its variations. Her findings made her blood run cold.  She was never the bearer of bad news, it was what detectives did, giving people bad news. 

“You found something?”  Regina asked in the kind of voice that left no room for argument.  Belle swallowed. 

“John G Wayne rented a car from a rental company in Boston and drove it to Washington DC and back two days ago.  He stopped for three hours at this address.” She handed Regina a piece of paper. “I am waiting for the toll photos,” She gave Regina the piece of paper with shaking hands.  Regina only glimpsed at it. Her normal olive tone turned pale.  She quickly took out her phone and called.  Emma could see that with every passing second, she was shaking a little more.  She closed her eyes to let out a breath she did not realize she was holding until that moment.  “Oh, thank god, Allison.”  With those words, she left the boardroom.

Cooper and Graham felt her relief, Emma understood the implications all too well. She looked at the book. The next case study gave her chills. 

“Belle, can you do a search for Robert Conwell next?”  Every head turned to her.  Cooper asked first.  “I don’t know him.”  Emma sat down. 

“It is the middle and birth name of Ted Bundy.”  The news was not well received and when Belle’s laptop pinged, they all cringed.

“He rented a car this morning. I am putting a tracker on it.”  Everyone jumped into motion.  Jennings was handed several instructions.  A BOLO and APB went out with the make, model, registration number and the latest DMV photo they had of him.  Regina saw the commotion. She was too busy reassuring Allison that everything would be alright.  When she made her way back to the boardroom, her eyes fell on Emma.  _She found him_.

 

Dispatch made the call _: All units. This is base.  We have a Code 2 with a 10-0, EDT response 1 deployed, in Delta, switch to channel 5.  BOLO updated.  The suspect is armed and dangerous, repeat, armed and dangerous, do not engage until response 1 has cleared the area. Block off Southampton Street and Massachusetts Avenue connector. Suspects’ vehicle is a light blue Chevrolet traced to a warehouse on South Bay Avenue…_


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Emma get closer to the killer or is it each other?  
> Warning, blood and gore, rape, mutilation....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a mill for all the comments. It helped my confidence a bit  
> Enjoy reading, keep the kudos coming... Please?  
> Oh and there is a little tenderness in this one. Please let me know what you think?

**Chapter 13**

 

Everything went according to the takedown plan.  Everyone did their jobs.  For the first time in a long time, Boston’s law enforcement worked together.  The DC FBI unit, with the local FBI, the different District BPD’s that were closest to the address in the South End and the response team. They closed the net so tight around Jefferson Hatter that they could hear him scream, then he slipped away, vanishing without a trace.

They found the car. The warehouse where he kept, tortured and killed four women. All the forensic evidence they needed was there and then some.  He stalked his victims.  It was only Mandy Wait and Catherine Sterling that he did not stalk.  It fitted with the profile.  They were killed after the trigger of James’ death, first year anniversary.  They were anger killings.  He picked two young women that represented his need for destruction and killed them.  He got a taste for it. To prolong the experience, he picked, then stalked his victims until he was ready.

The building was abandoned.  It had a lower level that was where they found everything.  Photographs of all the victims after Constance Grace.  As well as his next victims.  Exactly as Emma predicted.  There were photos of Gillian and Allison as well as of her and Regina.  The latest one of her and Regina together, leaving Connor Sheenan’s restaurant.  Emma lost it when she saw the photograph. They were all high with emotion after the disappointment of finding everything, except the suspect. Emma’s anger was radiating off her in waves.  It was not the fact that he was stalking them, but that he was so close, yet she did not notice him.  Neal had his own demons to fight.  The area where they were now, was a part of the blocks that he searched for Cherise Middleton himself.  If he had paid more attention a few days before, Julia Pierce might still be alive. This entire nightmare would be behind them. 

Neither Cooper nor Hunter took the stalking too well.  Until now, Regina was investigating the case. She was not the case, Emma was.  The photos brought the stark reality to them, that yes, their colleague and friend was being stalked.  Each man on the task force dealt with their emotions differently.  Emma discharged resentment as never before. Regina gave her one look and nodded. 

“Get forensics in here! I want every drop of blood, every bit of hair every eyelash bagged and tagged!  I want photographs taken of everything before it is touched!  Do I make myself clear?”  Everyone jumped into action the moment the instructions fell from Emma’s mouth.  Red was there the moment she was cleared. Her team went to work with a CSI forensics team.  They all did what Emma commanded, despite the fact that she was not the highest-ranking member.  The BPD Officers blocked the area off. Locksley came through with keeping the sky clear from the media. Even MSP Trooper Jeff Mitchell and his team pitched up to assist. Emma knew that Junior and his teams were on patrol at the harbor, in case he tried to get away on a boat.  The media had gathered, but they were clueless as to the reason why every cop in Boston was at the warehouse.  The roads had been opened as soon as South Bay Avenue was cordoned off.

Several junkies that lived in the vicinity were taken to the station for questioning.  Gillian, Robin and some of the call center Officers were busy taking their statements, hoping that one of them saw something that could help.  Even Gale pitched up.  She was told in no uncertain terms that she was to keep away from Emma, she did her job, the same as everyone else. 

Officer Jennings found the DVD’s, neatly stacked in the warehouse. After they were processed for prints and marked, it was given to Emma.  She dreaded to think what was on them.  The casings were dated from 2012 until a few days ago, the day Julia Pierce’s body was found.  Emma and Regina left the scene. Everyone will be working late into the night.  If the discs contained what Emma and Regina suspected, neither woman wanted any of the men to see it.  Emma spoke to Neal at length.  He wanted to join them, Emma knew if Jefferson recorded his torture of the woman, Neal’s guilt would escalate.

 

An Officer offered to take Emma and Regina back to the station. As they stepped out of the building, Emma scanned the crowd the moment a flash went off. _Henry O’Toole_.  She shook her head. He was a media vulture.  He would sell his soul to the devil himself if it got him a scoop. The guy was such a control freak that he took his own photographs.  Emma knew he would not get a story tonight, but soon.  He would have a headline. Whether or not the facts were correct.

The Agent and Detective strode through the Police Station with determination.  They did not talk to anyone. The tension was tangible, so they went to a silent room to start watching the recordings.  The initial one was of James, in his room at the VA.  He was ranting and raving about Emma. He spoke of the fateful weekend.  He cursed himself, Emma and Regina.  He cried with remorse in Jefferson’s arms. Then continued his curse on both women describing what he should have done to them.  He gave Jefferson his signature. He passed his anger towards the woman onto Jefferson with a lot of intimate knowledge about Emma.  Regardless, he described the rape the weekend and what happened most horrifically.  Emma sat, watched as the words of love and intimacy fell from James’s lips.  How he caressed her. Slowly making love to her.  She sat in horror.  _Was his mind so far gone by that time? That he took my screams to stop as encouragement to carry on?  That he saw her being cuffed to the bed as foreplay_?  Regina kept a close eye on the blonde.  So far, the Detective was dealing with it.  Regina noticed a change in Emma’s entire demeanor while they watched the rape of Paula Jennings. She asked if the Detective was alright. Stray tears made its way over Emma’s cheeks without any realization of it. Regina was dealing with her own raw guilt-filled emotions at the time to be of assistance to Emma. With each kill and heartbreaking emotional torture, Jefferson subjected his victims to, Emma and Regina felt the hatred rise in them. Emma stopped the video at one point.

 

“I never considered this guy’s IQ.  James gives him everything in the first DVD.  He did not have to think, almost as if James was his mentor.  The rest, he learned from my books. When did he get to be so good with the ID fraud?” She could see Regina was processing the information.  The distraction was a welcome one.

“The missing five years.”  She picked up the phone in the room, dialed Belle’s extension.  She turned to Emma.  “Was Ottis Toole the first chapter in your book?”  Emma thought for a moment. 

“No, it was his partner, Henry Lee Lucas, who killed a seventeen-year-old prostituted for refusing him.  Oh god!” Emma’s fury escalated.

“Belle you are on speaker.”  The analyst heard Emma’s voice. “Belle, run a search for a Henry Lee Lucas or a combination of his name through the criminal database between 2007 and 2012 in…”  She stopped, turning to Regina.  “Not Ohio.”  Regina caught on.  “No, not Ohio.  Belle look at Virginia first, then Maryland and Pennsylvania.  When you find him, run a check to see if he had any contact with any known ID fraud or ID theft criminals?”  Regina ended the call. She and Emma continued with their gruesome task.  They were making notes, updating the profile as they went along.  Regina worked well with Graham, but work-wise, he was not Emma.  She looked at the Detective for a moment.  _Here, like this, doing her job.  This was Emma, her Emma_.

Belle called back half an hour later.  They stopped the video since he documented his torture and kills meticulously. They were looking at Melissa May. 

“Go ahead, Belle?”  Emma asked.  She sounded tired. 

“Lee Lucas was incarcerated from 2007 to 2011 in the Greenville Correctional Centre for attempted rape with Raymond Larky, a second time ID theft offender.  Raymond mostly stole valid ID’s and placed his own photo over them. Another inmate, Dallas Simpson, he was a big deal.  He created a new identity for the right money. In one report it states that Lee saved Dallas’s life by stopping the bleeding after he was stabbed in prison. Lee Lucas was moved from washing duty to be an assistant in the infirmary.  He was released on parole, the month before Elwood Toole started working at the VA in Philly.”  The two women shared a look. 

“Thank you, Miss French,” Regina said before she ended the call. Now they knew where he learned some of his skills.

Emma sat back in her chair, raking her hands through her hair in frustration.  “Did I miss something crucial in the profile, Regina?” The Agent thought about it for a while.  Even if Emma did, she almost single-handedly solved the murders of ten women and stopped two more from being killed. 

“No Miss Swan, you did not.  You had insufficient evidence to work with and no support.  Nevertheless, tonight you almost got him. With what we have now, we will get him before he strikes again.”  Emma knew Regina was telling the truth.  Besides the fact that she could spot a lie, Regina knew Emma wanted the truth, even if she said yes.

Regina watched her.  “What is bothering you?” Emma had a small frown. She gave Regina a nervous smile. 

“He characteristically seemed to be a follower. James is the outraged leader in their relationship. His appearance would be non-threatening.  Not one to take command. Certainly not to this extent of violence.”  Regina thought about it.  Emma was correct.  “Are you thinking two un-subs?”  Emma thought of everything she learned about Jefferson in the last few hours, the left hand, right-hand combinations.  The videos of Kimberly and Constance, of how he tortured them, taunt them. The fear, the mental abuse. He left them alone for long periods. Jefferson was speaking to them the way he would to Emma.  The confusion, frustration and constant fear were clear in the faces of his victims. He would taunt the brunettes, degrade them. He instructed the blonde woman to kill the brunettes. Ranting in anger when they failed, then he killed them. He killed them in front of the brunettes. Then proceeded to tell them in detail what was installed for them. Over the next four days, he would mentally break down his victims. Then kill them.  Everything pointed to him working alone.  His voice on the video also sounded commanding and in control.  _What changed_?  The question kept on nagging at her.

“No, it is only him, but there is something I am still missing. The profile could not be this inaccurate.”  Emma shook her head. They continued to look at the footage.  Regina had forgotten that Emma was not privy to the Julia Pierce autopsy. After Jefferson killed Cherise Middleton, by accident the exact way Emma deduced, she had to sit through the brutal mutilation and agonizing screams of Julia Pierce.

 

Emma stopped the video after the genital mutilation, the violent insertion of her clitoris into her virginal tract. Julia thankfully had passed out by then from exhaustion and pain.  She would have had no awareness of the mutilation or her death.  Regina looked on concerned as Emma vomited into the closest dustbin. 

“I am sorry Emma, god I am so sorry!”  Emma wiped her mouth looking at Regina through tired eyes.  “Why did no one tell me?” It was Jefferson’s _special gift_ to her. There was no end to his sadistic emotional torture.  He wanted Emma to see. _This is what I am capable of_. Emma knew in that instance, Regina was in far more danger than what her mind could conceive. His anger was escalating at an alarming rate. He was mentally unraveling.

“I asked them to keep it from you.  Julia Pierce has never been a victim to you; she was a person.”  Emma nodded.  “I cannot watch the rest, Regina.”  Regina nodded in understanding. She watched as Emma took the dustbin and her leave from the room.

 

Emma tried to clean herself up in the lady’s change room. She struggled with the lock on her locker. It was the last straw. Emma lashed out at the locker. Hitting the metal door until it was bent in its frame. She screamed at the top of her lungs, an agonizing sound, as she slumped down to the floor. She saw Melissa’s face in her mind’s eye.  The way she tried to fight back, how her bloodied face contorted as he strangled her. He had so much strength.  It was not an easy way to kill a person. He held on to her esophagus next to the trachea until all the life seeped out of her eyes.  Heather screamed until she was hoarse after he cut her hair and sliced her face. A Nessmuk was an intimidating weapon. It frightened the woman endlessly.

 

Cherise and Julia were different. As Emma intuitively knew they would be.  Cherise dealt with him in her professional manner, calming him down several times.  Unlike the other women, she did not try and tell him that she was not Emma, that he had the wrong woman.  She did not play into his fantasy, but neither did she agitate him.  The look Cherise gave Julia when she tried to kill her was devastating. Emma saw the struggle in both their eyes.  Both women wanted to live, yet Cherise held life dear.  Emma did not know if it was due to her training. The fact that an Airhostess would place the safety of her passengers before her own. Emma knew that a Flight Crew would continue to administer CPR long after most EMT’s would have given up.

Julia was calm.  There was no hysteria in her voice.  She answered him back with authority.  Emma could see it pissed him off. She did not beg for her life, only for it to be over. She screamed when Cherise died, she screamed when the fuck raped Cherise’s mutilated body, but she did not beg him.

Emma did not cry.  She sat on the floor.  Her fists in balls. Desperately trying to regain control. She manipulated her breathing until she felt more sure of herself. She got up, washed her face. When she looked into the mirror, she was appalled at the sight.  For good measure, she smashed her reflection.

Neal and August had to restrain Gillian when they all heard Emma’s screams. Neal told her over and over that it is a way for Emma to deal.  That whoever intrudes on Emma’s self-loathing now, would be at the brunt of her anger. Gillian’s worry grew as no one seemed to do anything.  Not even Regina.  The Agent returned without Emma.  She heard the screams. She only picked up her phone, calling Jennings, asking him to bring a first aid box.  No one questioned Emma when she eventually came back to the boardroom.  Her face told the entire story.  Regina quietly took her hand, cleaning away the blood, bandaging it lightly after adding two butterfly stitches. Gillian watched them.  Emma gave no reaction to the open wound and swollen knuckles as Regina went about her task as if she had done it a thousand times.

 

“It has been a long day, get some rest. We will start fresh tomorrow.” Cooper instructed them indicating to Regina. 

“Neal, can you take Miss Swan to your place? I assume she still has a change of clothes there?”  He nodded and led the blonde out of the door. Before they could exit Gillian interrupted.  “She should be in protective custody!”  She yelled, her mind spinning with the knowledge that Emma had clothes at Neal’s place and not at hers. More so, that Regina knows this…? Regina wiped her face, a rare display of tiredness. “Emma?” Regina asked without looking at the detective. 

“Please do what I asked you to do Agent Mills.”  With that and without looking at Gillian, she left with Neal.

Regina picked up her phone and made the call.  A few seconds later two agents from the Boston Office walked in. 

“A.D.A Marsh, these Agents will escort you to your apartment. They will stay with you, in your apartment and escort you back tomorrow morning.”  Gillian opened her mouth.  “This is not negotiable dear.”  Regina’s tone left no room for argument.  

“What about Emma?”  She asked before she left.  Regina looked at her; she felt genuine remorse.  _This poor woman was in love with someone she did not know at all_.  “She needs Neal tonight, and he needs her.”  Gillian merely nodded, leaving reluctantly with the two Agents.  “Regina, where does this leave us?”  She wanted to cry at Spencer’s question.  He handed her a glass of scotch. August retrieved the bottle from Spencer’s office.  She drank the entire glass.  When she placed it down, she considered his worried gray eyes. 

“Unless Emma can determine who he is now or would be next, as she did today, we have lost him.” All the men sat down, deflated. “Cooper, please call it a night?  We can start again tomorrow, late tomorrow.”  He nodded. Everyone went home. 

******

Regina called Allison for the third time that day to make sure that she was alright.  Allison was still upset.  The conversation with Regina scared her.  When Regina insisted that she got protection, they eventually settled on a bodyguard for Allison to continue her work. She still thought Regina was overreacting, but hearing that this bastard stalked her was another thing.  She told Regina that she was flying out to Los Angeles to visit her mother. She was taking the bodyguard with, as an added assurance.  Regina was relieved, apologizing to her again for placing Allison in such a position.  “Catch him, Regina. Kill him! That is all I ask.”  The line went dead with those words. 

Regina wiped her eyes. She has been at it for some time now.  She slept only a few hours the night before. She had lost track of how many hours she has been up now.  She sat in her motel room with her phone in her hand. For the first time in four years, she understood why Emma left her.  Regina herself has never been a victim. In comparison, her mother’s lashing tongue and disapproval was nothing.  She grew up protected and advanced so fast in her career. She was training other agents at the FBI academy and when she was not doing that, she consulted on cases from the safety of a conference room.  She seldom went out in the field, from the time she was issued with a gun, she had yet to fire it, other than on a shooting range.

Emma was different.  She has been a victim of violence and abuse more than once in her life.  From child abuse and neglect to sexual orientation abuse and sexual harassment in the Marines as well as prejudice from people with preconceived ideas.  Emma always dealt with it, in her own time and in her own way, until the rape. The _corrective rape_ , even though Neal warned her not to, Regina intervened when she thought it was time for Emma to heal.  Emma did not stay a victim. In the sense of continuing to stay a frightened, helpless woman after the event. What changed was the fragile confidence she had with people in general shattered completely.  Emma stopped trusting altogether.  She was working through her emotions, the assault, where her mind kept her trapped.

Regina told her to seek professional help from a psychiatrist.  She pushed Emma to an ultimatum, much the way Gillian was doing now.  Emma was never a victim. She only needed more time to heal from her anger. Build her defenses where James left an enormous crack. There in lay the problem, Regina realized with sadness.  She did to Emma what so many people she loved or trusted did to her over the years.  How many times did Emma tell her that she was sent back to the children’s home?  Because she was not good enough, she was troubled, she was too broken.  The ultimatum Regina gave her that night was interpreted simply by Emma, based on her experience.  _I am broken.  She does not want me anymore_.

 

Regina wiped away a tear. Her heart filled with a sadness she could not comprehend. _No wonder Emma never forgave me or reached out_. She was as callous with the woman’s emotions as every other asshole in Emma’s life. She treated the woman she loved as if it was her fault. _Her worst day. The moment Emma walked out of the door_.  Regina shook her head at her own disapproval of her actions, then made up her mind to go to Neal’s. She might not be welcome, but she needed Emma.  She felt responsible. And truthfully, Regina knew that she desired the blonde’s warm smile tonight.  The faintest of hope that they might eventually be alright with each other. 

Regina stopped at a twenty-four-hour convenience store. Picked up a few things.  It was an easy drive to Neal’s.  She knew they would still be awake, Regina hoped that they were not talking shop.  That was the last thing she wanted tonight.

She could hear laughter as she knocked on the door.  It swung open. “Regina!”  Emma was clearly already a bit drunk.  She pulled the dark woman into her arms and kissed her on the cheek.  Regina went still for a moment, then melted in Emma’s embrace.  This was what she needed. This was alright.

“Neal, Gina is here!”  Emma called.  It seemed like old times.  He poked his head around the corner.  “Did you bring alcohol, we are running out?”  She held up a bottle of Tequila with more beer.  “And for tomorrow?”  She held up a six pack of high caffeine energy drinks.  “Oh god Regina, you are the perfect woman!”  _Okay, so Neal is drunk as well_. She mused.

Neal poured them all shots. The three of them slammed it back. Emma pulled a face. “God this stuff is horrible!”  It was one of the best Tequila brands available.  Half a bottle later Emma was laying in Regina’s lap on the couch.  Regina softly raked her fingers through the blonde hair.  Neal was on the other couch.  “Emma, if Regina was a song, what would it be?”  She giggled, remorsefully, so unlike her. “Alice Cooper.” She said calmly. Neal jumped up, started singing in his off-key, best Alice Cooper imitation.

You're a cruel device

Your blood

Like ice

One look

Could kill

My pain

Your thrill…

Emma jumped up and joined him.

I wanna love you

But I better not touch

(Don't touch)

I wanna hold you

But my senses tell me to stop

I wanna kiss you

But I want it too much

(Too much)

I wanna taste you

But your lips are venomous

Poison…

 

Regina looked at their antics with amusement and clapped her hands as if she watched a performance at the State Opera.  “Really?”  She questioned with a dry tone and a perfectly lifted eyebrow.  “Ohh, what about?”  Emma started this time:

Your love is like bad medicine, bad medicine is what I need, whoa

Shake it up just like bad medicine

There ain't no doctor that can cure my disease!

 

Neal cracked himself up.  “Good one.  What about you, what is your song, Emma?” She thought about it. 

“Hmm, dunno, maybe something deep dark and depressing from Leonard Cohan perhaps Eminem’s Monster. Damn sure, he wrote the fucking song for me!”  Neal nodded in vigor.  “Oh yeah, the monster in your bed sure as hell is friends with the voices in your head.”  It was a joke, Emma, however, felt the turmoil inside her as the realization of the truth struck her. Regina decided to relieve the tension.

“If I was music.”  She stated in that authoritative voice of hers. “I would be Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5 in A major.” Neal and Emma rolled their eyes at the same time started with, “DA DA DA DA! Ta-DA DA   daaah!”  Regina closed her eyes, she raised her hand. 

“Oh god, please stop! That is Bach! Leżajsk - XVII concerto pipe organ, Toccata and Fugue in D minor!”  Emma gave Neal a high five.  They both knew how Regina felt about her classical music.

 

“So, Emma, serious this time what song is Regina?”  She smiled at the woman in question, it was a sad moment for both women. It brought back memories of their unreal, earth-shattering, magnificent love, that neither were looking for, nor believed possible.  Regina knew what the song was.  It was something Emma sang to her one night, a lifetime ago, _Not_ s _trong enough_. Apocalyptica, playing their cello music and Brent Smith supplying lyrics. Classical music and metal.  Regina and Emma. At the time, it was hard for both of them to stay away from each other.  The attraction and love were far stronger than what either woman had ever experienced.  Emma did not need to tell her.  They smiled at each other, Emma felt the old warmth of Regina’s care rushing through her.  Regina shook her head with a smile.  

“What about Neal?” Emma smirked, he pulled a shoulder up.  He knew his song.  Emma’s voice went lower as she started to sing the blues beat.

 

Sittin' in the mornin' sun

I'll be sittin' when the evenin' come

Watching the ships roll in

And then I watch 'em roll away again, yeah

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay

Watching the tide roll away

Ooo, I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay

Wastin' time….

 

“Oh, god, yes, that is so very Neal,” Regina commented as she turned her head to look at Emma. The blonde appeared more relaxed. Neal poured them another round of shots.  They drank, laughed some, talked about insignificant things until Neal turned to Regina. He knew she had a beautiful husky voice, on trivial, relaxed nights like this night, some of her defenses were down, she would sing.  It did not happen often. 

“One song pleeeese Regina?  A song about Emma?”  Regina smiled at him. She thought about it for a second.  When she started to sing both Emma and Neal watched, listening mesmerized.  Regina had a beautiful singing voice.

 

 _Made a wrong turn, once or twice_  
Dug my way out, blood and fire  
Bad decisions, that's alright  
Welcome to my silly life,

 

Regina closed her eyes as she began to sing the next verse.  Emma’s eyes filled with tears. She felt the emotion radiating through the melodic words of Regina’s voice.  There were so much emotion and meaning behind the song.

  
_Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood_  
Miss 'No way, it's all good', it didn't slow me down  
Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated  
Look, I'm still around

 

Regina’s voice filled the apartment. She opened her eyes to look at Emma. The Detective felt the words rush over her, chilling and igniting her body at the same time.  Regina’s absence from her life did not change a single thing between them.  The unmistakable, tangible energy was radiating through both of them. Regina looked away first.

 

 _Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel_  
Like you are less than, less than perfect  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing  
You're perfect to me

_You're so mean when you talk about yourself, you were wrong_  
Change the voices in your head make them like you instead  
So complicated, look, happy, you'll make it  
Filled with so much hatred, such a tired game  
It's enough, I've done all I can think of

 

Regina opened her eyes.  She met Emma’s.  There were tears in Regina’s eyes now.  Her husky voice was strained with emotion that Emma was sure had nothing to do with their current stress.  The blonde woman was certain that this hit had stirred Regina before now.  That every time she heard this music, Regina would think of Emma.

  
_Chased down all my demons, I've seen you do the same_

 _Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel_  
Like you are less than, less than perfect  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing  
You're perfect to me

 

Emma gave her a warm smile as Regina ended.  A sad, sweet smile that melted Regina’s heart at that moment. _God, I miss you_.  Regina thought.  Emma came to sit with her pulling her into a hug.  “Thanks.”

“You are most welcome Miss Swan.”  Emma gave her a kiss on the lips, it lingered a second or two, too long for it to be a chased kiss. Emma let her head rest against Regina’s soft curves.  Neal smiled, here with Regina, Emma was so different. There were no walls. No anger, no distrust. No Dark Swan.  It has been a while since Emma let loose a bit.  She was going to hate him in the morning, but right now she was happy. Neal knew it to be Regina, far more than it was the Tequila.  He might dislike Regina for the hurt she caused in the past, but he also wished many a day that the two women would get their shit sorted out.  In all the time he had known Emma, she only seemed openly happy, without walls was when she was with this lover.

 

Emma and Regina did not leave each other’s embrace after the song.  They both soaked up the comfort the other woman provided. For that moment in space and time, the Evil Queen and the Dark Swan were content.   The two women fell asleep on the couch in each other’s arms. Neal covered them with a thick duvet before he went to bed.  He knew they would have a long day ahead of them. That tonight might be the only night in a long time where they could relax, have fun.

He watched them for a while. His heart was both elated and sad. “I hope you two make it through to the other side.” He whispered softly.  He would do anything to keep them safe, but the gods only know, tonight’s raid scared him.  He could not lose Emma.  Even when she was not his.  He could not lose her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poison: Released: 1997, Album: A Fistful of Alice, written Alice Cooper, Desmond Child, and John McCurry  
> Bad Medicine: Is a single by American rock band Bon Jovi. It was written by Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, and Desmond Child. It was released in September 1988  
> (Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay: is a song co-written by soul singer Otis Redding and guitarist Steve Cropper. It was recorded by Redding twice in 1967  
> Perfect: Released on December 14, 2010, by LaFace Records, JIVE Records, and RCA Records as the album’s second single. Written by P!nk with Max Martin and Shellback


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma learns more of the killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comment and kudos, I love to hear from you.  
> In the middle of this chapter, Emma makes a strange call. It is a backdoor I have written in. If this work receives a good response, I will write a follow-up.  
> Please let me know what you think?  
> Enjoy

**Chapter 14**

 

Her phone was ringing.  She heard it somewhere, but she was too snug, too comfortable to move.  She opened one eye reaching for it, feeling the comfortable grip around her tighten. 

“What?”  She bellowed into the phone without looking at the caller ID.  It was Gillian. 

“I, I only wanted to make sure you are alright?” For the life of her, Emma could not keep the irritation out of her voice.  “Good god Gillian! What time is it?” 

“It's six, I’m sorry, I will leave you to sleep some more.”  Emma did not even bother to kill the call, she dropped the phone and sank deeper into Regina’s embrace. She inhaled the scent that was uniquely Regina. She instantly fell asleep, Regina held her tighter.

 

Neal got up about two hours later. He started to make them coffee.  His head was killing him.  He knew that the lack of sleep the past few days, the stress of the raid in combination with theTequila and beer was making his head throb the way it did.  He took the two black coffees to the lounge where Regina was softly waking up Emma. 

“Emma honey, we need to get up.  Neal made you coffee.”  She received a groan for her efforts. It made Regina smile.  She always got up early, no matter what time she went to bed, Emma, however, could go on for days without sleep, but once she slept, she needed a good eight hours to recharge.

“There is a midget in my head banging with a hammer.”  Regina’s beautiful mouth curled into a smile. 

“I will tell the little bastard to stop his shit.  Come on? Sit up and have your coffee, please?”  Emma’s brain reacted immediately.  She opened her eyes, became aware of where she was and who she was laying on.  She sat up.

“Morning!”  Regina smiled. _Oh, my fucking god, I am in trouble!_  

“Morning,” Emma answered aloud.  “Sorry.” Regina tilted her head. 

“For what Miss Swan?”  Emma drank her coffee, Regina gave her a wicked smile. 

“For creasing your clothes.”  Regina felt a pang in her heart. She had to bite back the tears as she smiled a genuine smile for this woman. 

“You are most welcome Miss Swan.”  Emma poked Regina with her shoulder. 

 

“Thanks for the coffee, Neal!”  She yelled and was instantly sorry.  “Fuck! The midget is still there Regina.”  Regina leaned into Emma whispering in her ear. 

“Che pequeño ijo de puta, salí!”  Emma smiled at her. 

“Such profanity Agent Mills.”  She touched Regina’s face.  “Thank you, but I really think we will need your supersonic cure. Can you do your magic?”  Regina smiled shyly.  It was strange, the things they remembered.  “Sure, I will pick up everything we need on my way back to the motel.”

“Gracias Hermosa!”

“De nada mi corazón” The words made Emma smile, at the same time, it made her miserable.  Emma had always loved to hear those words. The Spanish fell from Regina’s full, desirable, sensual lips like light fire to an empty soul.  The unmistaken remorseful truth was that, despite her heart closing off, her well-constructed walls going up, it was with everyone, except for the two people she was drinking coffee with this morning. And Will, she loved Will as well.  It would never matter how hard she fought with her head, against her heart. The truth would always stay the same. She was Regina’s Corazón.

*********

They were the last to join the task force in the boardroom, both Cooper and Spencer thought that the three of them looked far better, relaxed, more rested than the rest of them. Emma smiled at Gillian while she was drinking Regina’s hangover cure.  Every damn vitamin a body could need.  She did not even bother to take her shades off as she slumped down.  She suspected that Gillian would be the only one without a hangover this morning.  “Emma, all the forensic photographs are up in the call room, if you can take a look at it?”  She nodded to Cooper then left the room as he dismissed her.

 

“How is she?”  Spencer asked first. Neal kept his thoughts to himself.  The question was open to the room. He knew that Regina would answer.  “She is good; she is handling it better than what I would have suspected.  But then it might hit her later.”  Gillian frowned at the dark woman.

“She is _good_? Are you dense Agent Mills? Did you look at her this morning?” 

 _Several times_.  Regina smirked on the inside.  “What are you referring to dear?” 

Gillian was beside herself.  She was angry, hurt and scared. Typically, she would have far better control over her emotions, but the fact that this sick killer knew where she lived, worked, the fact that he was not only stalking her but Emma as well, made her irrational.  “She is bordering on complete exhaustion.  When last did she sleep? Has she eaten?”   Neal answered.  He knew if Regina responded there would be more drama. 

“She is fine A.D.A Marsh.  We had a bit of fun last night; she slept surprisingly sound, she also had breakfast. Her hand is okay, nothing broken.”  The A.D.A gave Regina a look.  She understood.  They all knew Emma was having nightmares. Neal knew last night was different.  Gillian pushed.  “Did you see her locker? What about protective custody?” Regina, Neal, Spencer and August answered her at the same time, “She won’t do that.”

Gillian felt her frustration.  “Then order her!”

“Have you learned nothing? God! She would rather resign than hide Gillian!”  Spencer said in anger.  “I would have thought that you had learned your lesson when she handed you her badge.  Do not push her!”

Gillian stood up.  “Someone needs to!”  Regina looked at Neal. He was shaking his head in his silent brooding.  Regina did not ask about Gillian and Emma, but it was becoming more and more apparent this woman had no clue who Emma Swan was.

 

“Gillian.”  Her voice was soft when she addressed the A.D.A.  “I pushed Emma once when she was not ready. I lost her.  Do not make the same mistake.”  Regina tried to think of the correct words.  “Emma does not react in a similar manner as other people.  She does not push back; she walks away.  It is what she learned; it is what she knows. If you take her off the case, she will resort to different measures. Dangerous, unpredictable measures. While she is here, we can all keep an eye on her. Nothing any of us can do or say right now will keep Emma from going after Jefferson.”

“And what if he gets her first Regina?”  All her emotions were written on her face when she asked the question.

 

No one noticed when Emma came back in.  She was looking at the newspaper in her hand as she casually leaned against the door frame, addressing Gillian.  “What are you actually asking Gillian?  Hmm? Do you want to know what I will do if he abducts me?”  Her eyes were a mournful green. Regina stood back. Neal and Spencer held their breaths. 

“Or what I will do if I get him first?”  She raised a haunted eyebrow. Regina slumped down, deflated, she knew Emma well enough to hear the volatile displeasure in her voice. 

“What do you really want to know A.D.A Marsh?”  Gillian observed the coldness in the green eyes.  There was a muscle jumping in Emma’s cheek.  Emma diverted her eyes from Gillian to Regina, hoping that the woman would heed Regina’s advice.  Emma pushed the newspaper over to Regina, who took it and had a good look.  She looked back at Emma. 

“The Boston Butcher?” Regina asked bored. Emma nodded. “Look at the name of the reporter.”

“Henry O’Toole?” Emma nodded.  “He moved here two years ago, from Philadelphia.” Regina gave her a perplexed stare. 

“I will make sure we follow up on him.  The name is also…”   

“Suspect. A combination of Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole.” Emma turned to the door to leave when Gillian pushed again. 

“It is not only you that is in danger. Have you thought about it, Emma?”  Spencer jumped in before Emma could even turn around. 

“That is the reason why we have taken precautions with Agent Mills, you A.D.A Marsh and Miss Chase.”  Emma walked out.

********

Regina found her alone in the call room, where they used two walls to set up the evidence photos.  Emma was rearranging it.  Regina watched her in silence for a while, trying to find the pattern that Emma noticeably found. 

“Has Gillian calmed down?”  Emma suddenly asked Regina, startling her.  “No.”  The husky voice answered.  She should have realized that Emma knew she was there. 

“She is scared, Miss Swan.”  Emma turned to the FBI Agent. 

“We all are Regina, yet you are not asking me inappropriate questions.”  Regina folded her arms over her chest. 

“Perhaps it is because I know the answers, Emma. She does not.”  It was not an accusation. It was a statement.  Emma’s back was turned to Regina once more. She felt someone join them.  “He will not stop with me.”  She stated it flatly.  She has seen too much of Jefferson Hatter to have an illusion about that. 

“What are you saying, Emma?”  Regina asked behind her, looking at Gillian though.  She was convinced that Emma already knew about her presence, but Gillian clearly thought she was walking in on a conversation that she needed to hear.  Emma discussing it only with Regina.

“His fantasy is too formed in his mind.  He needs his fantasy to be fulfilled.”  Regina waited, hoping that Emma would go on. 

“Is that what your choice will be?  To give him his fantasy?”  Emma only continued to arrange the photos. Her shoulders sagged at Regina’s question.

“You already know the answer Regina, but for the sake of Gillian. I will clear it up.”  With those words, she turned around, looking into Gillian’s brown eyes.  “I will not.”

Gillian tried to understand the words.  It was clear she was missing something.

“For Regina or for me?”  Gillian asked the painful question softly. Emma smiled at her sadly, turning back to her task.  Gillian looked from Emma’s back to Regina.  Her eyes were pleading.  Regina felt utterly remorseful for this woman.  Her entire world has been turned upside down in a few weeks.  Regina took her by the arm. Steering her away from Emma. Walking with the A.D.A out of the room, she figured out what Emma was doing. It would help them.

 

Once she had Gillian alone, she looked at her. Her voice was soft when she spoke to the woman.  “Gillian, Emma had made a few choices in her life where she placed other people’s needs before her own, it had dire consequences.  Over time she found only one person she can trust. One person she will give everything for, heart and soul. Even her life. Emma would never sacrifice herself for another person. The last time, the cost was too high.” Gillian tried to compose herself.  She wiped at a stray tear.  “You.”  She stated flatly in a hoarse voice.  Regina frowned. Then she lifted Gillian’s face gently with two fingers. 

“No, dear, not me.  Neal.  The only person Emma truly loves and would sacrifice everything for is Neal.  Gillian, she would rather kill herself than to subject herself to sexual assault once more. That is what she is trying to tell you.”  The words hit Gillian hard. With it, she shattered. Sobbing into the arms of the last person on earth she would have ever thought to seek comfort from.

**********

Regina was running between the call room and the evidence garage.  The Officers and Forensics teams removed everything from the warehouse.  They set it up much the same as the room was found.  Now it was a waiting game.  Following the clues, the information, and profile they had.  Emma arranged the crime scene photos in order of priority. She was standing among the evidence, her green eyes picking up everything.  Several Officers watched her process and method. Emma was playing the horrific video footage from the day before over in her mind. She stopped.  “Jennings!”

The Officer was at her side in an instance. “There was a box, a box with a blue lid, where is it?” Jennings looked over the inventory.

“No Detective, there was no box with a blue lid.”  Her eyes fumed.  She grabbed him by his collar, dragging him up to the call room.  Regina followed quietly at a distance.

“There!”  Emma pointed to one of the multitudes of photographs on the wall. “What the fuck is that?”  Jennings swallowed. 

“A box with a blue lid.”  Emma let go of his uniform.  “Go find that fucking box!”  He left with a _yes ma’am_. She banged her hand on the table nearby, forgetting that it was injured. “Jesus fuck!” She was breathing deeply, trying not to show the surrounding Officers how much pain she was in.  Regina, quietly, patiently, elegantly sat down on the edge of the table, always the lady. She took Emma’s hand in her own, rubbed it.

“What is the matter?” The honey voice asked as she softly massaged circles over Emma’s injured knuckles.  

“The box. The box was in the wrong place. See here?”  Emma pointed to the photograph on the wall.  “It was with his gear. The clothes and beanie he has on while he goes down there.”  Emma turned to another photo.  “The camera.  It has a motion sensor.  The time stamps on the DVD’s indicated that he left them alone for long periods.  A lot of his equipment was stashed over here.” Emma pointed to a series of other photographs.  “His artist, makeup, the wigs and props he used, except for the box and his clothes. It was in a special place.”  Jennings came rushing in with the massive box, placing it on the table.

“Is it heavy?” He caught his breath.  “Yes, Detective.” Emma gave the box a grim look. “What is it, Emma?” She looked at Regina. 

“It’s me. This fucking box is me.”  As she flicked the lid off in irritation. Emma froze. Her jaw was set. Regina saw her friend shaking with anger.  Emma stood back.  “Has the content been searched, Jennings?”  His eyes were wide. 

“No Detective, it was misplaced.” He was waiting for her to take his head off again. _Jennings found the DVD and now the box. Their most significant evidence thus far_.  Emma looked at him longer than what was necessary.  She hated the thoughts that formed in her mind.  She did not know the Officer before that day on the pier. She never spoke to him until the visit to the hospital.  Now he was fully inserted in their investigation. She steered her thoughts away from the man.  She would ask Belle to investigate him. It made Emma sick to the stomach.  Jennings was not the first cop she found suspicious over the last few days, regarding the investigation. Trooper Mitchell’s presence the night before was unconventional. Liam Jones popped into the Precinct far more than what was his custom.  They all had light to pale blue eyes, the only consistency regarding Jefferson’s appearance thus far.

 

“Get me some gloves and evidence bags?”  Jennings ran off.  Regina dared to look inside.  She frowned.  Clearly, she did not see what Emma saw.  There were wooden boxes at the top. It was mostly all she could make out. Emma called for a photographer and a Forensic Analyst. They watched as Emma took out the evidence.  She took out ten wooden boxes.  Without opening them, she arranged them in a certain way.  Next to come out was an old photo of her, Neal and James. Neal’s face was scratched out. There were a few more photos.  Every time, some once face was scratched out.  Regina, Will, members of their unit.  Emma knew where every photograph was taken.  This was mostly photographs that James possessed. J _ames had more things, photos, nick-nacks, the ring… I must have packed it away.  I cannot find it_. Emma remembered Ma telling her on the day of her visit. It was all in this box. The letters she wrote to James while he was at the VA. _They were tattered. It was read often_. She placed each one in a separate evidence bag.  Handling it with care.  _More of her life and past that will lay open to the investigation team, like an open, bleeding wound. Thoughts and feeling that were never meant to be shared with strangers_. Emma’s raw emotions were written all over her face. There were little things she or Neal would send James. She systematically worked through the content. Emma sieved through the evidence, until she discovered items that did not surprise her in the least, but shocked her none the less.  A few old T-shirts she had thrown out, several panties, a lacy bra that did not survive an enthusiastic one-night-stand. She knew it was hers. At the bottom of the blue-lid-box was a small velvet jewelry box. Emma tried to pick it up several times.  Scared to touch it, even knowing what it was. The Detective picked it up without opening it. She clenched the item in her hand until Regina could see the blood seeping through her bandage.

Regina quietly showed everyone to back off.  Neal, Cooper, and August made their way to the call room when they heard Emma asked for forensics.

Neal’s breathing was as heavy as Regina’s.  They both prayed that Gillian would not walk in on this. Everyone could see how much Emma was shaking.  Her face was drawn when she turned. The ring box still clutched in her bruised right hand.  She did not make eye contact with anyone. One by one she opened the wooden case holders.  It was the murder weapons. All except the first two.  It was likely knives of convenience he already possessed.  Clean, shiny, sharpened.  Well taken care of.  Emma arranged the weapons while still in their holder, in the sequence of murders.  She knew her knives so well that she could do that, and she knew these knives. It was _her_ knives.  He bought the exact same model and make as the collection of combat knives she possessed. The last two, that he would not use now, was a bear claw Karambit and a Tanto. It took her a few seconds to determine which weapons were not there.  The dagger.  He would carry it with him, in his boot, like her. The Gelino Hunting pocket knife she wore on her belt next to her badge. One of the most versatile and comfortable knives she owned.  It was the other two that was not part of the collection that got Emma’s attention more than anything.

“Fuck!” She yelled out with all of her emotions on display, throwing the ring-box as hard and as far as she could.  She banged her fists on the table, immune to the pain that shot through her right arm. Then she walked off. Gillian came in, rushed after her. “Emma!” Emma did not stop.

********

Emma was on an adrenaline rush.  Her mind was unfocused. One thought jumped to the next every second. Her mind was mostly racing towards her natural instincts. She was in full flight mode. At the back of her conscience was a nagging rational thought.  She clenched her fists. _When was the last time I asked for help? She asked Will. Did Will’s help count_? She was Emma Swan, she did not ask for help.  She did not need people. She could take care of herself.  She wanted to cry.  Rid her dark mind of all the tension and emotion. But fuck it, the Dark Swan did not cry!  _Am I scared_?  She wondered for a moment. It would explain most of her irrational behavior.  Emma inhaled. She left the Precinct, having no idea of a destination, she merely continued to walk. Her phone buzzed in her pocket.  She ignored it, but it did give her an idea.  Emma walked a few more blocks until she came to a convenience store that a payphone outside. Emma dialed the sixteen-number code from memory.  There was no ringtone or answer.  Emma heard a soft click.  She pressed another eight-digit code. A soft female voice answered. “Department of recreation and welfare.  How may I direct your call?”

“I am looking for options on welfare for a discharged vet.”

“One moment please Captain.” The soft voice instructed.  “It is Lance Corporal; ma’am” Emma understood the process, she could hear typing in the background.

“What is your message for the Welfare Officer, Lance Corporal?” Emma swallowed audibly was she really doing this?

“Please inform the Desert Fox that the Swan Princess has an owl in her sanctuary.” Emma placed the phone back on the receiver. She picked it up once more.  Dialed three zeros, hung up, then dialed a random number.  She waited until the call was answered before she hung up finally.  _What the fuck Swan_?  She questioned her sanity.  She swore to herself that she would never dial that number…

********

It was Regina that went to look for her.  She found Emma sitting in the dark, in the corner of her bedroom. Holding a framed photograph of herself. Neal and Regina embraced her on either side, three smiling faces.  Her apartment looked as if it had been ransacked.  There was not a single item that was not turned over, broken or thrown to the other side of the room.  Regina said nothing.  There was no point to it.  She switched the light on, ignoring Emma completely.  She packed a bag for the woman.  When she found the red leather, jacket pushed to the side in her cupboard. She wanted to ask.  She felt the soft leather and noticed the silk blouse under it.  Regina inhaled.  There were so many things they needed to talk about.  The night Emma left to stay over at Neal’s four years ago. The month after that when she left for Washington DC.  It was clear that there were emotions between them. Regina inhaled.  She could not think about it too much.  The Agent knew that Emma was calm now, the crisis was averted.  Emma’s mind would already be solving their current problem.  Regina’s heels clicked assertively down the hall.  She came to the bedroom after she dropped the packed bag by the front door. 

“Can you please come with me, Miss Swan?”  Emma got up from her sitting position.  No words, no argument.  She left the apartment with Regina.  As they made their way down and out of the building, Emma told Regina that she needed something from her garage.  Regina left her to attend to the task.  She knew it would be superfluous to ask Emma questions currently. 

 

Emma was looking at her surroundings passing in a blur as Regina drove the FBI SUV back to her motel.  She laid a loose hand on the box she retrieved from her garage.  When Regina pulled into a parking lot by her room, Emma followed her without question. Anyone except for Regina would have thought Emma to be in some form of catatonic state.  Regina knew better.  For Emma to lose so much control over her emotions, was unacceptable.  She internalized her emotions.  Acting out was the behavior of children.  As soon as the blonde sorted her feelings out, she would go into double action.  Regina hoped that Emma was busy analyzing Jefferson.  Keeping him out of her mind, getting into his.  Regina ordered a salad for herself and a grilled cheese for Emma.  It concerned her slightly when Emma did not munch the food down in an instance.  She took the shoe box, she brought with and went to sit on the little back porch, overlooking a dilapidated washing line.  Regina left her.  She could hear Emma scraping and sawing something.  It was a method she used at times.  Emma would sharpen her knives, systematically.  Regina knew the current sound was different, but there was the same consistency in her methodical work. 

 

Emma inhaled.  She had been busy with her task for hours.  She lost time.  She lost time in her apartment.  The fuck-head got to her more than once in the last few weeks.  She knew it was too close.  However, she was now too vested in his sick game.  She was going to get this guy.  She was going to rip Jefferson Hatter’s beating heart from his chest and feed it to him. Then she was going to give him to Regina while watching as she set him alight with a fireball.

Emma cleaned up the tools and material she had worked with.  She also took the time to replace the now dried, stained bandage on the right hand.  Regina looked up from the document she was reading as Emma made her way back into the room.  Her look was intense. Her finger slid slowly from where it was against her temple to her cheek.  She turned her head slightly.  Emma’s mind went to a place it should not have, as she watched that finger. She swallowed hard. Taking a seat far away from the mesmerizing woman, where she was stretched out on the bed. The only furniture in the room. She looked at Regina too long and a raised eyebrow met her. She smiled shyly at the stunning woman and let her head drop.  “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“You are welcome Miss Swan.”  Her damn voice was soft, thick and husky. Emma shifted where she took a seat. “What did you make outside?”  Regina ventured slowly into a conversation.  Emma showed her the small Karambit she cut out of carbon-fiber. “Will it work?”  Regina was not familiar with the material.  Emma took a piece of paper from Regina and slid the small knife with the inch-long blade through the paper neatly.  The Agent nodded. She knew what the weapon could do.  Emma demonstrated the destruction of the Japanese steel knife, one night on a raw leg of lamb when Regina mocked her about the weapon that fitted in her hand with only an inch and a half blade. Emma always carried the knife on her.

 

Emma liked her knives.  She had been ambushed too many times in her life.  Caught off guard.  She learned quickly as a child to always carry something with her on the streets.  An older Emma did not quite place herself in situations she could not control any longer. Her vigilance and paranoia were always there, even if no one could see it.  She saved her unit in Afghanistan due to a knife.  Emma was taken from behind by a massive man.  He threatened to kill her if the men did not put down their weapons.  At the time, Emma carried her issued Marine combat knife strapped to her leg.  In one maneuver, according to Neal, the bulk of a man was laying on the ground. The knife sticking out of his chest.  They did not even have the time to place their weapons on the ground.  The former Marine now carried the weapon in a special sheath clipped to her pants at her lower back.  Her Japanese Karambit was in a sheath attached to her service weapon holster. She carried her issued gun in a holster around her shoulders. She carried a Star HK Lancer.22 on the inside of her left boot.

“What was it that had set you off?”  Regina asked the question as calmly as she could.  Emma shrugged her shoulders.  The brunette knew she was still embarrassed for her lack of control. She watched Emma play with her new addition.  The carbon-fiber was a lot lighter.  Emma needed to get a feel for the unusual weapon.

“He knows me.”

“Excuse me?”  Regina asked, uncertain.  Emma looked up, giving her a sad smile. 

“More correctly, I know him.  This killer is in my life.  I see him every day.  I talk to him.  I have looked into his eyes.  I smile at him.  He is not only stalking me, but he has also inserted himself into my life, into this case.”  Regina did not know what to answer.  It was not at all unusual for organized killers to insert themselves into an investigation.  He did it before with Paula Jennings.

“What are you saying, Emma?” The green eyes bore into the brown once. 

“The paper, this morning.  There was a comment. _Detective_ _Emma Swan had been working the case of the Boston Butcher for nine months, discovering all the victims_.” Regina thought about it. She turned her head and wetted her lips.  “No one knows that except for the task force and none of us spoke to the media.”

“He bragged to the media about his work.  Told them something that only he would know because he is watching me. Or, the killer wrote the article…” Belle was still digging into Henry O’Toole’s past.  “He knows where I am, what I do.  It will never matter if I go into protective custody or not.  He will find me.  If not now, later.  Regina, I will not run from this fuck.  I will not be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”  Regina understood better than what she cared to admit.

“Gina…?” The word was soft, full of raw emotion. “He will not go after Gillian and Allison.   The weapons he picked for them is in an evidence locker. He has scared them shitless already. This fuck gets off on fear.  He will abduct me. Then he will come for you.” Regina nodded her understanding.

“You think it is a cop?” The implication was petrifying. Then Regina realized, it was the reason why Emma lost it.  It was the conclusion she came to. It made her sick to her stomach.  Emma looked away. She did not want to become worked up all over once more.

“I cannot think of anyone who transferred here in the last three years.  Or someone that would have the time to travel up and down the coast.”  Trooper Mitchell could cover Massachusetts. The entire State was within his jurisdiction. He could slip over State lines without much notice. Liam had access to his own boat.  Emma often wondered how Jefferson traveled. He would pick up rentals, miles from Boston. Perhaps he used the coast. It would make travel faster.

She shook her head, her blonde mane falling around her face.  Regina leaned in to place a strand of hair behind Emma’s ear.  Her touch was soft.  When she opened her hand, Emma leaned into the touch.  They were playing a dangerous game.  However, all Emma wanted to do was to pull Regina towards her, melting into her embrace.  As controlled as Regina was with everything in her life, she craved the warmth Emma provided in that instance. Everything about the feel of Emma was familiar.  Regina would never confess to another soul that on the long lonely nights when her fingers would relieve the burning desires she had.  The image in her mind and the name calling of her full lips were not that of Allison Chase, it was as always, Emma…


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma tries to get into the mind of the killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, thank you for all the Kudos and comments. I am a kudo slut so please keep them coming.  
> I apologize for the long wait, my muse is bad-tempered.  
> Warnings: Emma and Regina relive the rape in Hampton by looking at the DVD of her murder.  
> Stats from Vronsky, Peter. Serial Killers: The Method and Madness of Monsters

**Chapter 15**

Regina steadily felt the heat rise in her.  She wanted to touch Emma from that Saturday that she saw the blonde after the long absence.  The change in Emma frightened her.  The distance Emma created with her words made Regina continue with caution.  But the night before they slept in each other’s arms.  They did not have much sleep, but both women had a restful slumber. Emma molded her body to Regina’s on Neal’s couch.  _She belongs here_ , Regina thought at the time.  The thought caused her more sadness than what she revealed.  The more Emma was close, the more she realized how deep her feelings for this woman indeed was.

Emma came closer as she leaned into Regina’s touch. Her mind screamed at her to stop.  There was no force on earth strong enough to stop the pull of Regina Mills. The green eyes raked over the supple red lips, the little scar that she adored so much. She could not stop. “Emm…” Emma swallowed her name from those lips. Her kiss was hungry, demanding.  It instantly created a fever in the pit of Regina’s stomach. She felt Emma, shaking lightly as her arms went around the blonde’s shoulders, pulling her closer. Emma moaned as Regina met her attack with the same vigor.  She deepened the kiss, searching for the softness of Regina’s tongue and sucking on it almost painfully.  She felt Regina’s nails on her shoulders, causing her nearly to become undone. Her mouth found the little scar, playing over it with the tip of her tongue. Regina leaned back, opening her neck invitingly, she pushed her upper body into Emma as she felt the woman rake over her neck with soft bites, then full kisses.

Emma could see the rise and fall of Regina’s breasts under the silk shirt. Her breasts were full, firm.  The perfection of this woman. Emma palmed the right breast through the silk. She felt Regina’s nipple become hard under her palm. It caused the blonde to make a noise from deep within her throat. The sound caused Regina to claw deeper into Emma’s shoulders.  The brunette felt the muscles jump under her hands.  She felt a deep urge to abandon all reason and rip Emma’s offensive black shirt off her body to gain access to the pale white skin she knew was hiding there.  She wanted to run her lips over Emma’s abdominal muscles and see them rip every time she paid them attention. Regina grabbed Emma by her hair.  Tangling the mane in a fist, pulling her down hard, back to her wanting lips. When Emma came up for air, she heard the husked whisper. “I’m wet for you.”  Whatever logic or restrained remained in Emma, vanished in an instance.

 

She knew this body like she did her own.  What this dark woman wanted, what she liked, most of all what made her scream in passion.  Emma recognized that beneath the perfect pencil skirt, there was only a soaked G-string in her way. She could already smell Regina.  Emma turned them, pinning Regina’s arms above her head.  She saw the appetite in the dark, lustful eyes.  She pressed her lower body into Regina’s need and watched the response. The supple body moved under her. Regina’s legs were moving up and opening for her lover.  Her back arched, giving Emma a good look at the rounded lace that peered through the silk blouse.  Every action, filled with desire, craving, an unquenchable hunger for the woman she loved.

Emma did not want this. She did not want to fuck Regina after all these years.  She wanted it slow. She wanted to discover the beautiful body all over again. However, even the smallest touch, linger, and movement from Regina was spiking her desire to the point where all she wanted was to cum, to make Regina cum, to fuck her until they were both exhausted, dripping with more need for each other. Needy, lustful passion that she wanted to lick from Regina’s body. Her body pushed into Regina once more.  The dark woman opened her eyes, clenching Emma’s hands where they were holding her down, restraining her movement.  Emma knew the look, it was a silent command, _fuck me now or suffer the consequences._ Emma felt her need flood through her. She let go of Regina’s hands to free up her own and give the woman exactly what she craved….

“Regina!”  Cooper knocked on the door.  “We have a suspect in custody, can you get out here?”

 

 _Fuck, fuck_! Emma was ready to kill Cooper when Regina pushed her back, holding her from behind for a moment.  “Quiet Darling.” Emma fumed. “I will be right there Cooper.” She called back in a restrained voice.  Emma’s breathing calmed.  “I need to freshen up Emma.  Your bag is over there.” Emma grimly nodded as she got off the bed to pull on clean underwear and a jean.  She could smell Regina’s Chanel No. 5 on her shirt.  _I might never rewash this shirt_.  She mused as she placed it in the bag and grabbed another. As she dressed, she attached all her weapons, lastly slipping the new Karambit into the brand label of her jeans, covering it entirely by running her belt through the belt loops and brand label.

 

The drive with the three Agents to the department was stiff.  Emma hardly greeted them.  Regina did not bother to explain the blonde’s presence in her room.  Cooper briefed them on the way.  “This asshole came in with a hunting knife, calling for Emma.  He said that he would kill himself if he did not get her.”  Emma snorted.  Her arms were folded over her chest.  She was clearly still pissed.  “It is not him.  You should know that.  An organized killer will not lose so much control and give himself up.  Probably some fuck-nut who lost his shit because his wife is leaving him.”

The four of them, with Spencer, watched Gillian and Neal interview the man through the two-way glass.  Emma let out a yarn after another series of questions.  “I will be in the call room.” The four men looked at Regina as the Detective left.  “She is fine,”  Regina answered without looking at any of them.  She was assessing the suspect’s body language.  Emma was right, this guy had a stressor, but he was most definitely not their man. She voiced her opinion the same moment Gillian excused herself from the interview.

She looked tired, Regina noticed. “I think we must keep him for the night and sent him for a psych evaluation in the morning, but this man would not harm a fly.”

Cooper sighed. “Sorry for getting you all up for nothing.”  He realized how desperate he was to get this guy before he could get to Regina.

 

Gillian and Regina walked together to find Emma. Gillian looked at her in concern. Emma’s hand had bled again. She looked at Regina.  “Where did you find her?”

“She was at her apartment,” Regina answered with little emotion.  Gillian swallowed. “Is she staying with you?” Regina stopped.

“Yes, I am keeping an eye on her.”  Gillian frowned. 

“You are concerned! Jesus, if you are concerned what the fuck is going on?” An eyebrow shot up. It amused Regina that she was now the measurement for Emma’s mood. That and Gillian’s language. 

“Miss Marsh, my concern is that Emma will put the missing pieces together before any of us and then go after Jefferson. She already figured out that he is someone in her life.  She will need a sliver of evidence to know who he is.”  Gillian inhaled. 

“Therefore, it is more than stalking?”  Regina looked at the A.D.A.

“Organized serial killers often insert themselves into an investigation. He did it with Paula Jennings.  He inserted himself into her life, not only stalking her. He was part of her life.  Thus far Paula was the closest replication of the event he is recreating.”

Emma was standing with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.  Looking at the crime scene photos.  Several Officers were watching her closely as the SSA and A.D.A came into the room. 

“You do know I can hear you?  If you have a question, ask me?” Emma did not turn to them, neither did she take her eyes off the wall.  Her green eyes were scanning through the visual interpretations of what was already in her mind. “Did Belle get anything from the street CCTV around my apartment?” Regina came to stand next to her, Gillian on the other side. 

“No, we do not know how he gets to your apartment, nor the way he leaves.  We have surveillance on your place since the raid.” Emma turned to her slightly. 

“He knows where the damn City CCTV cameras are but not that my District ends at the I93?”  Emma turned to the wall.  “He knows his way around the city, to stay off roads that have surveillance.  That would go with the theory of him being a cab or Uber driver.” _Or a city official, like a cop or MSP_.  Emma thought sourly. “However, he has not been here long enough to learn the different jurisdictions.  Dumping Julia in D4.”  Both women knew that Emma was not talking to them. “He has been in Boston a minimal of eighteen months.”

“We have him stopping by your apartment since August 2015,” Gillian informed her. Without looking at her, Emma carried on. 

“He most likely began to stalk me after the Sterling murder. I am wondering if he moved to Boston before or after Simone Lance?” Emma was tapping her hand in irritation against her hip.  Regina noticed.  It was a new habit for Regina. Almost akin to her tapping.  Emma brought her focus back onto the facts.  _He knows me. I talk to him nearly every day.  I do not recognize him from his DMV photographs, or the one Jessica had of him_. The tapping became rhythmically harder. _Henry Lee Lucas, Ottis Elwood Toole, Donald Harvey, Robert Lee Yates, Dennis Lynn Radar, Edmund Emil Kemper III, Theodore Robert Bundy.  What was the connection? Lucas claimed up to 600 murders, the estimation was 2 to 12. His partner Toole was convicted for 6, he claimed far more. Donald Harvey stood at 37 to 57, he was an angel of mercy. That part did not fit in with her profile. Perhaps it was what he craved while living in Cincinnati with his abusive family. A mercy kill from a doctor to end his pain?_ Emma knew he left that clue for her for a reason.

 _Then there was an evident change. Yates was a Military man, 13 victims. BTK was educated but held odd jobs at times. 10 victims.  Ed Kemper has an estimated IQ of 145, 10 victims, including his mother. Ted, the poster boy for all serial killers. Convicted of 30 murders, the number might be twice that. If it were about numbers, he would go for Gary Ridgeway at some point._   Emma inhaled deeply. Belle had searches running for the rest of the serial killers covered in Emma’s book.  If he used any of their names or a combination, Belle would know instantly. Everyone was waiting for her computer to ping.  Emma’s eyes were on the wall. She did not see the multitude of photographs any longer, she was thinking of the DVD of the Paula Jennings killing…

 

**Two days before**

Regina and Emma search through the video material Jefferson took of his victims.  The video camera was connected to a motion sensor. The footage was from the moment his victims would wake up until their deaths.  There were long breaks between.  Emma made notes of the time intervals.  He had a job.  But that much they knew already.  He would also leave the blonde victim alone for a day to abduct the brunette.  He would taunt both.  Telling the brunette that he would make her suffer far more than the blondes.  Up and until the killing, most of the abuse was psychological and emotional.  He liked getting off on the fear. The worse part of his torture was hitting them whenever they begged. 

“Don’t beg Emma! I know you want this as much as I do.”  Emma sat stiffly every time he would yell that, even with the knowledge that James thought the rape was consensual.  The women were all clearly confused.  Telling him that he had the wrong person. It angered him more, so they would stop, but none of them could do what he asked.  He asked the blondes over and over. “Kill her Emma.  You will pick me this time or both of you will die! Kill her!” None of them could.  The significant difference between a psychotic organized serial killer and the rest of humanity, the inability to take another life, even when it meant saving your own.

 

They started to watch the DVD of Paula Jennings.  Regina asked if she would be alright to watch it.  Emma only nodded, she did not trust her voice with an answer.  Watching his re-enactment of Hampton was far more traumatic than what Emma expected.  He copied James word for word and in every action.  He kicked Simone hard in the genitalia area.  The young woman screamed, so did Paula.

“What is it, Emma? Is her fucking dick bigger than mine? You will soon find out!” He continued to kick Simone until she lost consciousness.   Paula was handcuffed to a bed. He was yanking off her jeans while he spoke to her, softly but full of rage.  He began to penetrate Paula as she screamed.

“Yes, I know, it is wonderful baby.” The woman cried as Emma did through the ordeal.  Regina sat numb. 

 

 _She was unconscious throughout Emma’s rape. She woke up when it was over. The yelling woke her._ That was what was happening on the tape now. “You keep on picking her? Why the fuck her?”  Jefferson as _James_ pointed to the brunette _.  Regina remembered getting up. She was hurt. She was scared. She hit James in the face with a fist. He yelled, holding his face, he ran out of the apartment.  Regina unlocked the cuffs and held a crying Emma.  “We need to get you to a hospital.”  Emma shook her head.  “No, no hospitals.”  Her experiences in hospitals were less than pleasant. “Emma…”_

_“Call Asshole 2.  On my phone, call him.” It was Emma’s only instruction.  She sauntered to the bathroom and cleaned herself up. The bruises on her inner thigh already showed.  Regina did not know the person on the other side of the connection.  She gave him a few facts.  His accent was heavy.  He told Regina that someone would come for them, that they were to stay where they were._

_Will sent someone to respond to Emma’s call.  Within an hour, Regina and Emma were on a private airplane back to Boston. Will was waiting for them.  He did not ask questions. He took Emma in his arms, carried her to his car.  Regina did not ask any questions. She had no idea what was going on, or why he went to these lengths to help Emma.  She knew who Will was, but she had no idea how Emma knew the son of the Irish mob boss here in Boston. “Call Asshole 3 and tell him to meet me at my place.” His heavy accent instructed Regina.  She was surprised to hear Neal’s voice. From there Will took care of everything. He cleaned Emma up. Gave her anti-biotics, a morning-after pill and meticulously cleaned every wound before he administered a sedative expertly. Then he took care of Regina. James managed to break one of her ribs. He gave her something for the pain, rubbed healing gel into her side, before wrapping it tightly.  She looked at him with questions. “It is what I do for people I care for.” He answered the question she never voiced. Will kept his word.  He took care of everything, including having James beaten nearly to death._

 

Regina shook herself from the painful memory. She swallowed the lump in her throat thinking of what happened that day to Emma. She had so many questions after that day, she still did. Emma refused to talk, even to Neal.  Will and Neal did not give her any answers.  Neither on how they knew each other nor on why Emma called the son of a Mob Boss to help her.  The three of them helped Emma through the physical ordeal.  No one ever noticed the physical pain Emma carried for weeks. No one noticed the subtle changes in her demeanor, not even Regina.

 

The blonde was tense. The rape was over. A tear fell down Emma's cheek. _James_ turned into Jefferson. They noticed it with the other footage as well. The killer would be ingrained in his fantasy, then become the stalker. 

“Do you think they will find me, Paula?  I have worked with you, with them.  Do you ever think one of those fucks will find me?  Dennis Radar! It is right in their faces. They are too stupid to see me.”  He was, in Paula’s face. “Do you know how they caught BTK? He was fucking arrogant!  That was how they caught him.  Wanted too much attention.  Bragged, needed news coverage.  Spoke to the pigs.  Eventually sent them a god damn floppy disk.”  Jefferson threw his arms in the air. “A goddamn floppy disk I ask you?  Just because the fuckers told him it could not be traced. The fuckers found the metadata embedded in the fucking Microsoft Word document. Traced it to Christ Lutheran Church, the document was marked as last modified by Dennis. Can you believe that Paula?  I will not make the same mistakes.”  Jefferson started pacing up and down. The two women gravitated towards each other as much as they could. “Fucking Son of Sam was caught because he left a fucking rifle in his car! Ted fucking Bundy was caught because he drove a stolen car!” Paula got her voice. “You think you are smarter than all of them, why won’t they catch you?”

Jefferson evilly grinned at her.  “Because I am a chameleon. You can stare at a tree for hours and never see the magnificent creature hiding there.  No one sees me.”

********

 _A chameleon_?  Emma thought.  _Disassociation Personality Disorder, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Malignant Narcissistic Personality Disorder with psychopathic and sexual sadism comorbidities_.  Emma frowned, that was a whole lot of fucked up shit.  I _t could be any of them, or it could be all of them in some form or combination_.  _Was he ever treated for it_? _Given his history, it would not be impossible_. The psychiatric report they had from his childhood merely stated that he was overwhelmed in a household full of women.  He needed to assert himself as the man of the house. Therefore he acted out. It was less than insightful into a child that would turn into a smart sexual, sadistic, serial killer.  Emma remembered the side note of one of the psychiatrists that treated him. He had an insight. Jefferson became both a phenomenal actor and a serial killer.  Emma would not be surprised to find out that the man tried to kill himself on various occasions.     _He wanted to be heard_.  Emma thought further, to his schooling.  _Teachers were stating that he acted so well that his character change before their eyes.  He was doing the same now.  The angry man, the women hater, the stalker, the killer and every persona he took on to get close to his victims.  The friendly Uber driver, the helpful courier, the sympathetic friend. It was all one man. He learned to hate women as a child.  Without a voice, he became the loner, the misfit. His sadomasochism was taking shape in his mind over the years, inflicting the kind of emotional, mental and physical trauma that he was subjecting his victim to. He changed his name, trying to fit into someone else’s life.  He would have identified with Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole well.  Lucas himself said: “They ain’t got, I don’t think, a human being alive that can say he had the childhood I had.”  Jefferson would understand that. Then he landed himself in prison for attempted rape. From an environment of solitary woman to one of only men. He would still be uncertain, lost._ Emma closed her eyes _.  He meets James. He identifies with his rejection, from herself, from the Police Department, from his own birth mother.  Something changed, not when James died, not when he killed Mandy and Catherine, no, it changed after that_.

 

Emma turned to the two women still standing next to her.  “Did he have a CD in the car?”  Regina waved the ever-present Jennings over.  She looked at the inventory.

“There was a USB drive.”  Emma looked to Jennings.  “What was on it?”

“McRoberts listened to it.  I can get you the transcript Detective.  It is six hours of self-help macho bullshit.  _Embrace your power.  You are the stronger sex, the hunter, take what you want and be the man you were meant to be_.”

“Be the man you were meant to be...”  Emma repeated to herself and walked off.  Gillian looked at Regina, she could see that Regina was as clueless as she.  She held Regina back for a moment. 

“I look at the two of you. Her heart… it might be broken, but it will never belong to me.”  Regina swallowed.  The woman was hurt and scared, she did not want to embarrass her, or contribute to further pain. 

“Gillian, she cares a great deal about you.” Gillian gave Regina a half smile. 

“That is not the same as love, now is it?”  Regina did not know what to answer. “You get this confused look at times.  Has she changed that much?” Regina gave the Councilor a sad smile. 

“At times, during these weeks, I see the old Emma, the one that is easy going, quick to laugh, but mostly… She is this angry, dark-mood person.”  She looked down in order for Gillian not to see the emotion in her eyes. “Hampton changed her much. I did not support her as I should have.  I pushed her. I gave her an ultimatum.  She left. I do not know if the Emma I know, will ever come back.”  Her voice cracked a bit, despite her efforts to keep the deep hurt and regret from her voice.

 

Emma was writing by her desk.  Her hair fell around her face, obscuring her expression.  Her mind was on Regina.  On the night. The what might have happened?  Her hands were busy with a different task.  She was making a list of all the people in her life, people with blue eyes.  They found many items that assisted Jefferson with changing his identity. There was nothing to alter his eye color. Hair, yes, skin color and facial features like the scar and beard, but nothing to change those pale blue, lifeless eyes.  Among the items was his laptop and a custom-made PVC Card ID copier.  It was sophisticated, so was the coding on his laptop.  Belle had been unable to break the code, thus far.  It was not something he learned in **Fraud for Dummies** , no, this skill was taught to him.  They already spoke to Dallas Simpson.  He was doing another stint in prison. He could not provide them with any valuable information regarding Jefferson.  He did, however, point out that the man was far smarter than one would think upon meeting him for the first time.

Jefferson indeed was a chameleon. Emma stopped her list, thinking.  She was making a list of people that not only had blue eyes, but they could also match her, in intelligence and physical contexts.  _What if he was a wimp_? She dismissed the idea. Emma’s eyes fell to the list once more.  She started to scratch out the names of cops. _They would not have the time_. _Not for something to this extent_. _Killian, August, Junior, and Robin were on the list of blue-eyed men_. The D.A had ashen blue eyes. Emma tapped with her pen over his name a few times, before she scratched his name out. She did, however, circle Jennings and Mitchel’s names, the rookie as well as the MSP Trooper had light blue eyes. The most logical suspect would be someone that Emma and Regina had put away while they were working together on the force. She knew, however, that Lee Lucas was arrested and imprisoned in Virginia.

 

Emma turned her head, the vertebrae in her neck clicked in.  She looked at the list.  Two of her neighbors were on there.  She did not know the men.  Emma picked them up through the interviews Regina, arranged with the people living in her apartment building.  There were three names, belonging to Conner’s men.  Emma shuddered at the thought.  She might have asked the killer to be a protective detail for Gillian or Regina.  The idea brought tears to her eyes.  _Why can I not find him? Be the man you were meant to be... Who are you now, who do you intensely wish to be?_ Emma knew the answers lay within those two questions.  She continued with her list, thinking of as many men as she could that might fall within her profile, that had blue eyes. 

Emma was narrowing her list when she heard someone clear their throat to get her attention. She looked up into the dark features of Tori Gale.  Emma wanted to roll her eyes. “I’m sorry for the interruption Swan.” Emma could see her discomfort. Her face was unreadable though. “I wanted to apologize. You know…” The Detective pointed to Emma’s cheek that held a faint yellow mark.  Tori still looked like a raccoon. “I am sorry for implying that you were working with this fucker.”  Emma gave her a faint smile, nodding her head.  Tori assumed the Dark Swan accepted the apology with that nod and started to walk off.

“Detective Gale?” Emma called her back.  Tori saw Emma scribble something down. “Thank you for helping.” Tori accepted the words. 

“We are still waiting for a hit.  It is as if he went dark.  No cell phone activity on any of the numbers we have.  No hits on any of the names he used or might use.” Emma gave her a fuller smile.

“I did not thank you for getting an update.” Tori frowned.  Emma gave her a piece of paper with an address and landline number on it.  “For the love of god and the safety of all lesbians in Boston.  Ask Doctor Lucas out already?”  Tori wanted to say something defensively. However, she realized it was the reason why she hit Swan that day.  Red was all over Emma.

“Do you think I stand a chance?” Emma sat back in her chair, finding it amusing that the confident, self-assured cop would question herself like that.  Emma pointed to the paper. “Don’t ask me why, but Red loves grilled steak and square dancing.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m a pizza, beer and alone company girl. My mind cannot comprehend anything that includes cowboys as fun, but Red does.” Emma pointed to the paper. “That is the address of the best roadside bar in Boston that caters for both.  It will score you major marks with Red.”  Tori swallowed.  Emma knew what her next question would be.  “Belle and Red are friends.  Belle likes to gossip.” She gave Tori a half smile, which was returned.

“Thank you, Emma.” She held up the piece of paper, then walked off.  Emma was already busy with her work again when Tori spoke up. 

“I know there is some kind of bad history between you and Agent Mills.” She looked down at her hands.  “Perhaps you should follow your own advice.  I see the way you two look at each other.  One of these days you are going to ignite the entire Precinct with those, come-fuck-me-looks.  Ask her on a date already?”

Tori received a rare smile. Emma shook her head. Tori took it as the end of the conversation.  She did, however, remind the blonde of her Dark Queen. She could feel the heat rising as she thought about Regina and their earlier encounter. Emma looked at the time.  It was after twelve.  Emma stretched out, sensing her back creak.  She wrote a name carelessly on her notepad with a question mark next to it.  Closing all her files haphazardly.  She would continue with the grim task in the morning. She shoved it in her drawer and locked it.

Emma stood up, in search of Regina.  Her Queen was curled up on two of the boardroom chairs.  Her black coat draped over her.  Regina pulled on pleated pants with functional shoes and the jacket when Cooper interrupted them.  Emma stood looking at the distinctly uncomfortable sleeping woman.  She thought about waking Regina and settle them on two cots that were set up in the changing rooms.  Her face lit with a smile.  Regina was here, sleeping in this uncomfortable position because she would not be caught dead sleeping on a bed used by others without changing the sheets.  Like at the Motel, she brought her own pillows and clean satin sheets.

“Your Majesty,” Emma whispered to her.  Regina was up and awake in an instance. She blinked her eyes a few times.

“What did I miss?” She suppressed a yawn.

“Nothing, I think it is time I take you home.” Regina nodded.  Understanding that Emma would drop her off at the Motel.  She would not sleep over. Never mind how much Regina would love to wrap their bodies together once more.

Emma helped her up.  It always mesmerized her that Regina could be fully functional in five minutes after sleep, she needed at least half an hour. The two women made their way out of the Precinct. The cops that were not sleeping at their desks were busy monitoring for any activity on the suspect.  Several eyes followed the couple.

 

The fresh, chilling air hit Emma.  Only then did she realize how tired she was. She did not sleep enough the night before.  A nightmare free night in Regina’s arms. She craved another restful night.  Emma, knew, however, after the fever Regina created within her, the last thing she would get was a restful night.

Emma looked up and down the street in front of the Precinct. There was not an FBI or Department vehicle that they could use. Emma let out a sigh.  “Shall I call us a cab or Uber?” She got a look that was meant to kill.

“Hilarious Miss Swan.” Emma smiled, hooked her arm through Regina’s.  They walked off in the direction of the Cop bar.

“God damn it!” Emma was annoyed.  She knocked on the window of the beat-up golf. Jimmy shot up from his sleeping position at the driver end. Emma yanked the door open. “Really?  How long have you been sleeping in your car?” Jimmy tried to wipe his face with his sleeve. He was in a deep sleep and had no idea what time it was. He yawned. “It has only been a few days Detective.”  He said it as if it did not matter. 

Jimmy reached for a flask of coffee under his seat.  He drank all of it.  “Where to Detective?” Emma got into the front seat as she closed the back door for Regina.  “Can you drop Agent Mills off at her motel, then take me home Jimmy?”

 

Regina felt a pang in her heart as Emma instructed the driver.  She wanted what they had the night before. She wanted to sleep, with Emma in her arms.  Regina closed her eyes. _Is it too late for us?_ She mentally shook her head.  _No, Emma’s kisses were filled with lust and desire. Perhaps when this case is over, we can try_.  She inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes and rested back against the seat as the car pulled out of the parking spot.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Regina are abducted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the long wait. I was not happy with this chapter and had to rewrite it three times. It landed up much shorter than the other chapters. I assure you that the next two chapters will be longer.
> 
> Warning. This is about a serial killer who mutilates women. The girls are going to get hurt. It will get worse before it gets better.  
> If you figured out who the killer is before this chapter, please let me know?
> 
> Thank you for all the support, comments and love.  
> I will update soon. Thanks for reading this.  
> DME

**Chapter 16**

Will Scarlet looked at the coded message he received earlier that day. _Damn you, Swan_. His mind was running through the implications when an alarm went off on his laptop. Will frowned.  He tapped a few keys. Will’s dark eyes scanned through all the information.  Several monitors came to life in his private office at the back of the bar.  He studied everything.  His heart raced.  He opened several views on his main computer.  City cameras, his tracking system, and other applications came to life. His keen eyes scanned through the information.  He switched from one city camera to another, then another.  The fury inside him raised when he looked at the screen.  It showed only an empty back street.  No movements, no cars.  He checked the coordinates of the transmission that had set off the alarm.  He had the correct camera.  His fingers glided over the keyboard, tracking the current location of the signal.  When the camera closest to the location came into view, he waited.  Will did not even realize he sat tensed up, waiting for a car to come into view. A muscle in his cheek jumped as he saw a delivery truck.  "Fuck!" He yelled as he grabbed one of several cell phones in front of him.  He pressed a speed dial button on the burner phone. 

“What the fuck!” Came through clearly from the person Will woke with his call. 

“Asshole! Get up. We have a problem.” Neal realized who was on the other end, he struggled out of bed, switching the phone from one ear to another as he haphazardly tried to get dressed.

“What is the problem Asshole?” He knew far better than to use Will’s name.

“About five minutes ago Regina pressed her panic button.  My guys are following the signal. I have a bad feeling though.” He paused as another cell phone rung nearby.

“Hold on,” Will instructed while he took the other call. Neal could hear cursing and threats in the background.  Then a clear, “Are you sure?” Then to Neal.

“Asshole, he has them both.” Neal inhaled.  His sleep and rest were forgotten.  His mind and body went into overdrive.  “What the fuck happened?  I was assured you have a handle on it!” Will sighed. _Yeah, so did I. This was the third time in his life, he neglected to protect Emma…_

 

**January 2004, Somewhere in the Rigestan Desert, Helmand province, southwestern Afghanistan**

William Connor Scarlet joined the Marine Corps the year before after he completed his studies in computer science.  Currently, he was questioning his sanity.  The war was one thing. He had seen enough violence in his life to be concerned with the people he had killed in the last year. Recruits joined them almost nine months ago. Will watched them as they struggled through their conscience as they fought a war none of them understood and taking lives.  He smirked.  Then there was private Swan. He did not acknowledge her at all.  His instincts told him that a woman looking like that would not last a month. Here she was, nine months later. Weathered, tired, as the rest of them, her soft white skin took on a healthy tan.  She had cut her long hair off. Looking like any other Marine. To Will’s utter surprise, the girl could handle herself. She was determined. Unlike other recruits or women in this fucking war, Emma Swan had a look that he was unfamiliar with.  It was not bloodlust, neither sympathy, it was almost a careless agony.

“Swan?” He called her softly.  They were lookouts for the next four hours.

“Yeah?” Will smiled. Emma did not take too well to authority.  It made him wonder how she had managed the Marines thus far.

“What’s your deal?” He could see her green eyes seeping with anger, even at night in this forsaken desert cold, it was about 44 degrees, currently. She moved closer to him. Her eyes turned to the desert.  Scanning the terrain from their vantage point.

“What the fuck do you care Lt?” He shook his head. His brown eyes looked her over.

“Just can’t figure you out, that’s all.”  Emma gave him a sharp look.

“That would be the point.” She whispered as she moved her position.  Her hair was standing up.  Emma already unclipped her combat knife.  Something was close to them.  She inhaled and focused on the silence of the desert.  Will watched her.  After she took down a hulk of a man a few weeks before without any of their assistance, he started to watch her awareness. That, and the way she handled and cared for knives. She often searched the bodies for weapons.  Other soldiers went for cigarettes, booze, money, but Swan, she liked knives.  It was peculiar.

Emma gathered a small rock and threw it towards her _brother_ with precision.  Neal was awake and ready in an instance. His eyes adjusted to the dark.  He looked at Emma, then towards his Lieutenant. Will was as baffled as Neal, neither questioned Emma.  All three were dead still and quiet. Emma had her back to the cliff that gave them cover. Neal and Will were centered on the sides of the slight plateau where they took cover for the night.

 

Emma’s actions were so fast that Neal nor Will had any idea what had hit them. Emma turned towards the cliff, pulling her gun.  She was closest to Will.  It made it easier not to think of a choice. Three weapons fired at the same time.  Her aim was towards the man that was gunning at Neal. The only way to save the Lieutenant’s life was to move her body in front of his.  Emma fell, continued to shoot from her fallen position, her service pistol in her left hand.  The rest of the unit had no idea what the hell was going on, what they were shooting at until the first body fell in their mists. A guerrilla group found them.  They were shooting blindly over the cliff.  

Neal came over to his Lieutenant’s side. Through the fire, he glanced at Emma, she was struggling to get her M4 out from under her, the Glock M007 laid empty next to her. Barry, their heavy shooter finally popped two M203A2 grenades from his M16 grenade launcher. The shooting from the cliff ceased. Will ordered his unit to hold fire, spread out. Two privates broke from the group to scout for more trouble.

Neal kneeled next to Emma.  “Looks like you saved our asses again, Swan.” She rolled her eyes at him. 

“Fuck knows why I keep on doing that.”

“Such a pretty mouth and all that ever comes out of it is blasphemies.” Will looked her over when he became aware of a slight sting in his arm.  He took a look at it.  A bullet grazed him, tore through his uniform, leaving a burned, grazing bleeding wound.  “Terrance!” Will’s voice echoed into the night. Neal already ripped Emma’s uniform open where the dark red pool formed on her chest.

“Oh, Swan.” Both Neal and Will said in unison as James came over.  Will looked to Neal, he nodded.

“James, James! Get a hold of yourself.  There is nothing you can do, let Terrance and the Lt do their work.  See if they can stop the bleeding.”  It was not the first time James showed his emotions towards Emma. It was becoming a problem.  Will was grateful that Emma neither encourage it nor reciprocated.  It was the kind of feelings that could get people killed.

 

Will Scarlet had fixed up too many people in his life.  His father’s men, his father.  He decided at age twelve to rather live with his mother, a caring nurse that fell in love with a man.  A man with a life, far removed from her own.  His mother continued to teach him skills that he would need some day.  With his degree and full first-aid medical certificate, he earned the rank of First Lieutenant.  He was not in the war zone for a year, when he received his full Rank. With the help of the medic, a young lad that wanted to become a doctor one day, Terrance, Will had patched up more than his share of soldiers following him.  He was the one that made the hard choices, by now, he knew when a man would live or die of his wounds.  It chilled Terrance to the core every time his Commanding Officer gave him a slight shake of the head as he started to work on a man, trying to save a life.  Terrance learned the hard way.  There were certain wounds that could not be mended. As they worked on Emma that night, Terrance kept waiting for Will to stop. There was so much blood.  They had her on an IV. She was shot up with morphine. Terrance was sure something nipped an artery.  Will, however, continued to work. Neal was at his side.  Passing on clean compression plasters. When they turned Emma, Will sighed with relieve.  If anyone cared to look at him at that moment, they would see the tears in his eyes.  Neal did.  Neal saw his own feelings reflected in the brown eyes. If it were not so serious, Neal would have laughed. They were all in love with Emma Swan.  A girl that for some reason feared to live far more than what she feared to die.

********

When Emma woke up in a hospital bed three days later, Will was with her.  His dark, serious face gave nothing away. “Can you try to look less relieved Lt?” Emma husked out. Will gave her a faint smile.  Emma relaxed.  She was sure that she was one of the blessed few that ever received a smile from the stoic man.  The incident earned Emma her purple star. The first of two.

“So, Lt do I still have all my parts?” She asked after he gave her some water. His eyes were more intense than what Emma had ever seen.  “You took a bullet for me, Private.”

Emma frowned. “Really?  I ask you if I still have a tit and _that_ is your answer?” Will felt out of his depth once more.  He was good with people.  He could read people.  Between his mother and father, he knew both ends of the human scale. _But this girl…_

Will cleared his throat. “You should ask the Doc that. Said she’d be round som’time.” Emma rolled her eyes. 

“No fucking wonder all of you are single.” She tried to move.  Will stopped her.  “You had surgery. The bullet did a lot of damage.  You lost a fuck load of blood.  That knife you carry on your back, it saved your life. It stopped the bullet from exiting.  It would have ripped your arm off if it did.” The dead seriousness was back in the brown eyes.

“The Panga I took off that dead guy two weeks ago?” Will nodded.

“Fuck me.” She thought for a moment. “You alright Lt?” Will gave her a crude nod, squeezed her hand and whispered to her.

"You saved my life, Emma." He never used her name.  It fell softly from his lips. His deep brown eyes cast over her in a dead seriousness when he spoke. "Tá airgead agat Onóir Fiach, Emma Swan.” She did not understand him, but from the look in his eyes, it was something fundamental to him.  The implication of those words found reality in her world when, after the rape, when Connor told his son that the debt was still unpaid. Will, owed Emma a life debt.  Therefore, he accepted his father’s words without arguing.

*******

“Asshole!” Neal’s voice brought Will back to their current situation. 

“Sorry, the guys just informed me that they have been chasing the wrong car.  He gave them the slip after the panic button was activated.  He had taken it off Regina’s neck and placed it around the tow bar of a truck doing deliveries.” Neal closed his eyes.

“Where did you lose them?”

Will rubbed his eyes.  “They took West Broadway, they turned into D Street, then he speeded off.  My guys picked up the signal near the Convention Center, but by then the tracker was on the truck.

“I need to call this in,” Neal yelled as he got hold of a shoe.  “Neal,” Will’s voice was more serious than normal.  “We know who took them.”

*******

 **Ten minutes before**.

God damn it!” Emma was annoyed.  She knocked on the window of the beat-up golf. Jimmy shot up from his sleeping position at the driver end. Emma yanked the door open. “Really?  How long have you been sleeping in your car?” Jimmy tried to wipe his face with his sleeve. He was in a deep sleep and had no idea what time it was. He yawned. “It has only been a few days Detective.”  He said it as if it did not matter. 

Jimmy reached for a flask of coffee under his seat.  He drank all of it.  “Where to Detective?” Emma got into the front seat as she closed the back door for Regina.  “Can you drop Agent Mills off at her motel, then take me home Jimmy?”

 

Regina felt a pang in her heart as Emma instructed the driver.  She wanted what they had the night before. She wanted to sleep, with Emma in her arms.  Regina closed her eyes. _Is it too late for us?_ She mentally shook her head.  _No, Emma’s kisses were filled with lust and desire. Perhaps when this case is over, we can try_.  She inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes and rested back against the seat as the car pulled out of the parking spot.

“Jimmy, do you have more coffee?” Regina asked as they drove on East Broadway, towards West Broadway, the direction of where she was staying. 

“No, ma'am. There is a cooler box behind my seat. I did not keep track of people taking water, if you are lucky, there might be one left Agent Mills.”

Regina searched for the box.  She found several empty bottles.  The cooler contained one more still water.  She opened it and drank a few sips.  Her mouth was dry after her sleep.  She handed the bottle to Emma. 

“Why don’t you ever offer me water?” Jimmy laughed. 

“I used to, you refused every time, so I just stopped.” He gave her a small glimpse.  Emma drank more than half the water before she handed the container back to Regina. Emma made herself comfortable, looking at Jimmy. 

“How was your week?”

“Okay, Detective.” She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t ya start lying to me now Jimmy.  Why are you sleeping in your car?”  He shrugged. 

“It is temporary Detective.” Emma scrutinized his answer. 

“Motherfucker!” Jimmy cursed as a panel van cut them off…

******

Will did not have sentiment to anything or anyone. Except for… He shook his head. He was looking at the coded message Emma sent earlier that day, then the various monitors.  As he did, he picked up a photograph that was pinned to a map of Boston.  It was of himself, Neal, James, and Emma, in the desert with their full Marine gear on. They were smiling.  He was sure it was before a patrol.  They rarely smiled after a patrol. They were inseparable. Depending on each other all the time. _Emma_.  He rubbed his fingers over the much younger face of Emma. He wiped a stray tear. _God damn you, Swan. All three of us fell in love with you, followed you here. I would guess none of us ever stopped_.

******

Neal was driving like a maniac. He had the sirens and lights on.  There was not a lot of traffic that time of the night.  Cars moved out of the way as he speeded down the road to the last know location Will could give him. 

The Detective called Dispatch the moment Will hanged up. He had dressed as fast as he could, running to his car.  Frantically speaking on his cell phone, while monitoring incoming calls on his police scanner. From the moment of the devastating call to now, all Neal could think off was to get to the scene.  Emma would never go down without a fight.

Neal was yelling on the radio. He woke up every person on the task force except for Gillian.  It felt as if he was doing ten things at a time.  The adrenaline pulsed through his veins as he spoke to his team.  Spencer did not even bother to ask where the information came from.  Cooper, on the other hand, wanted a confirmed source before he called it in.  Neal told him to go fuck himself.

 

Screeching to a halt, Neal almost jumped from his Jeep before the car was at a complete standstill.  Killian and Tori were already there.

“What do you have?” Killian fell in step with Neal.  There were cops everywhere.  “Get those journalists out of here! Cordon off the scene!” They heard Tori command behind them.  Neal looked at the yellow markers that were placed everywhere. There were two sets of tire tracks.  Both breaking hard.  An Officer was taking pictures. 

“Get those prints to Miss French as soon as possible? She would be able to give us a make and model.” Neal asked as he scanned the scene. There was broken glass, a window perhaps? And blood.  There was blood on the shattered glass.  Red was busy picking up the pieces.  She looked to Neal with sad eyes. 

“I will run this as soon as I get back. To tell you…” She faltered for a moment. “To tell you who the blood belongs to.” She tried, but her voice lacked the professional tone it usually had.

“Gale!” Neal called over his shoulder to the Detective. Loud enough to be heard over the noise bussing around them. The raven-haired woman was at his side in an instance. 

“Please escort Doctor Lucas to the M.E’s office.  I want those blood results as soon as possible.”  Gale nodded, grabbing the Doctor by her arm. The situation became all too real for them. They were no longer looking for a suspect. They were looking for his victims. Their friends, people they cared about.  It would place extra stress on their delicate nerves. Neal was running things.  He would try his best to exposed Red and Belle to the least of direct contact to the case.  The team would need their expertise, not their emotions. Tori raced off as soon as they both got into the BPD car, lights blazing.  She was grateful for the call Neal made.  Red was upset. _Blood, who’s blood_?

Neal felt eyes on him.  He turned. “Excuse me, Killian.” He said as he walked over to his friend and former CO. The look of defeat on both men’s faces did not go unnoticed by Killian.

*******

 **Twenty-five minutes before**.

“Motherfucker!” Jimmy cursed as a panel van cut them off… He hit the brakes hard, steering the golf into the left lane. The van missing them by an inch.

“Asshole, motherfucker!” He yelled and threw a middle finger to the disappearing car.  He turned to Emma.  She was rubbing her head.  The way she sat, without a seatbelt on, caused her head to whiplash into the passenger window.  It was shattered.

“Are you alright Detective?” She nodded, looking to Regina. “I am alright.” She assured Emma with a soft touch on her arm. 

“Jimmy, can you take both of us to the motel?  And Miss Swan, please sit straight in your seat?  Buckled up this time?”  Emma snorted. She did what Regina asked. 

“Jimmy, I will pay for the window.” He did not acknowledge the Detective’s words. Emma felt a sudden coldness grip her.  Her senses were in overdrive. She searched through her mind to find the cause.  _Perhaps a delayed reaction_ , she thought. She felt her body relax a bit.  She realized Regina asked her a question.  There was a ringing noise in her ears.  Emma relaxed more. Her movements were slow, _curious_ , her mind comprehended. Then she looked into Jimmy’s eyes.  They lacked the warmth Emma would have expected.  By instinct, she reached for her gun. Jimmy smiled as he watched the misshaped move. _His eyes. It was his eyes_. It was Emma’s last thought as she drifted to sleep.

 

Regina watched Emma.  She gave a yarn. Her body relaxed.  The dark eyes noticed that Emma’s eyelids seemed heavy.  She knew the blonde was tired, but she usually would push through it. 

“Jimmy, please stop the car? I think Detective Swan has a concussion!” Regina’s voice sounded strange to her own ears. Jimmy looked over to Emma.

“She’s fine,” Jimmy answered the Agent.  Regina’s mind was telling her something.  “Jimmy, stop the…” She leaned between the seats to speak to him.  The moment she did, his elbow came hard in contact with her nose. Regina yelped at the searching pain shooting through her face.  Fear gripped her heart. 

“Oh, gods!” She grabbed the necklace Emma gave her and pushed down on the button at the back.  Jimmy frowned into the review mirror. _Emma went for her gun.  Why didn’t the fuck-whore_? He braked sharply. _Fuck_! Regina’s body slumped to the side.  Jimmy opened his door, then the back door.  He grabbed Regina by the hair. She gave a mild protest as he dragged her out of the car by her hair.  For good measure, he slammed her face into the side of the car. She dropped to the ground.  The parts of her mind that were still working turned her body to face the man they have been hunting for weeks.  She could see the fury in his lifeless eyes. She almost laughed. _Gods, the chameleon, right in front of them, this entire time_.  Jimmy ripped the necklace from Regina’s neck.  He planned to keep it as a souvenir. Now, however, he gave it another look. _Fuck. Emma did not give her a gift, as he first thought.  She was protecting the fuck-whore._   His mind raced. He heard the traffic, he smiled.  Jimmy ran a few hundred yards, found a truck standing still at an intersection.  Wrapping the necklace around the tow bar at the back, he sprinted in the direction of his car.

 Suddenly his time was short.  He searched Regina first.  She only carried her Glock 17. _Arrogant bitch, not even a backup weapon_!  He unclipped and disarmed the weapon before he tossed it into the boot of his car. He picked Regina up from the ground, un-ceremonially dumping her back into the car.  He quickly ran to Emma’s side.  It took him more than six months to count and recount all of Emma’s weapons.  He stripped her of her sidearm. The Star at her left ankle, the Marine combat knife at her back, the dagger in her boot. He took her badge and the folding hunting knife. Four knives and two guns.  He smirked.  Jimmy knew Emma, he would search her with a metal detector later.  He dumped her weapons in the trunk as well, then sped off in the opposite direction.

******

Will had his tablet in his hands, showing Neal the detail from the tracker.  Neal looked down the road.  His steps turned into a run.  Killian called for more officers to follow the running Detective. 

Neal froze when he got to the site, less than a mile from their current crime scene.  The tracker indicated a momentary halt.  There was blood.  A lot more blood than the first site.  Neal turned around. Tears were beaming in his eyes.  He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  Will had seen him behave like this before. He grabbed hold of his friend as he let out an agonizing cry.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Regina are at the mercy of Jefferson while Neal tries to find them.  
> This chapter is for all the murderinos out there - not my word. If you do not understand the term, I suggest you listen to one of My favourite murder podcasts.  
> Warning, this chapter contains brutal reference to child abuse. And the girls get hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, promised you a late Christmas present, instead, you get an early Valentine. A few things. I have been writing this for a year now. I do extensive research to make everything believable, that takes time. Also, my mind was not in the game for a while. I cannot push myself if I feel off, so I ask you please not to push me either.   
> This is a long chapter with a few time jumps and a dialogue. I like to listen to fan fiction, so I wrote the dialogue with that in mind, instead of using the correct method.  
> I tried to do the ladies just, but they are in a league of their own. So here is a disclaimer: I am a fan of My favourite murder. I do not speak for Karen Killgariff, Georgia Hardstark or Steven Ray Morris. They did not pay me. This was just a fun add in.  
> PS, if your # is #EvilReginaPhd, I am sorry, just borrowing it.  
> There is Xena quote in there as well.
> 
> To my faithful fans, thank you for sticking with me.

**Chapter 17**

 

Emma's eyes flickered.  Regina watched every movement. At this point, she would take the smallest action as an indication that Emma was still alive.  "Emma?"  She whispered, hearing her voice eco slightly in the empty room.  Emma slapped a hand over her face. "Jesus, fuck, what happened?"  Her head was pounding with the worst hangover she has had for a while.  It said much, seeing she had a blinding hangover just…  Emma shot up. She felt precarious, her sight and motions were strained.  "Regina?"  She managed to rasp out as she fell back. "Emma."  It came out as a relieved sigh.

"Can you try and sit up?"  Emma looked more confused. "You mean I'm not?"  Regina smiled a blatant smile of respite.  The tears were brimming in her eyes.

"No Em, you are on your back."  Emma steadied herself with her hands, she struggled. "There you are," Regina whispered as she met the fuzzy green eyes.  Since her moment of awakening, all she was concerned with, was Emma.  Her mind took her to different places.  Things she regretted.  Moments she would change, but above it all, she wanted to hold Emma.  Hold her and look into those green eyes.  Jefferson had them chained up in what looked like a basement. They were too far apart to touch, even if they both stretched out. In the few hours since she woke up, Regina busied her mind from the desperate situation they found themselves in by analyzing the differences between Jefferson's previous set up of his victims, against their current state. He apparently was cautious enough of Emma to secure her with more restraints than the other blonde victims.  _Victims?_ She shook the thought from her mind.  _No, I cannot allow myself to think that_.  

 

Regina braised herself for Emma's reaction.  She knew how the blonde retorted when she was cuffed. Regina was informed by Neal on the occurrence between Emma and Tori before the FBI's arrival. She remembered the bruises on Emma's face. Now she waited.  Emma would react to their condition the moment her hazed mind comprehended where they were. The sophisticated woman watched as Emma's features changed. It nearly broke her heart when she saw the fear displayed in the green eyes.  Emma was paranoid about restraints, even before James assaulted her. After the event, it took her several months before she could grab hold of her issued handcuffs without breaking into a panicked sweat. Regina saw that same panic now.  She talked to her friend.

"Emma, you are alright.  Sit up and look at me, only me?"  Emma did as she was instructed. Her eyes met with Regina's. All she saw in the dark gaze was assurance. Her breathing eased, she closed her eyes for a second, pushing the wave of fear down. When she looked back, she had a new awareness of their dire situation.

"Oh, gods Regina."  The emotion spilled from Emma's eyes on seeing her friend. Regina's nose was broken, an ugly purple bruise was noticeable on her cheek. It indicated to Emma that it had been a few hours since the incident took place.  "I am going to fucking kill him! Jefferson! Get your useless fucking ass in here!"

"Emma, Emma, calm down.  You do not want to agitate him."  Regina tried to steer the angry Detective in a different direction.  It was too late.  Jefferson Hatter made his way into the room.  His dull eyes were blazing.  The sneer on his face an indication of the turmoiled mind.  It was hate, deafening hate.

****

Neal was grateful Will stayed with him.  His thinking became irrational. Will calmed him down on the drive back to the Police Station.  Spencer and August greeted them somberly as they entered. Will gave the two Lieutenants an update. He tried to provide as much detail as he could.

"Jimmy?"  August asked despondently.  The shy, inconsequential driver did not even make it on any of their lists.  They had Officers interviewing a lot of drivers that fitted the profile. Jimmy was well known, gods, he was sitting in his car waiting for a fair most days. Either outside the bar less than half a mile away or directly in front of the station.  The man had a slight limp that disqualified him on the physical profile as well. August thought on the description Emma gave them.

_Organized killer_ _with Disassociation Personality Disorder and Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He was an arrogant psychopathic and sexual sadist. A white male between the age of thirty-five and forty. Physically capable of carrying a woman weighing around a hundred and fifty pounds. He would come across as friendly, but distant. He blends into any environment_.  August shook his head in disbelief. Emma and Regina's profile were correct in every aspect, except for the physical part. He thought about it for a moment. No, the physical part would be right. The fucker was faking his limp.  It spoke much of the man's dedication, patience and ability to present a persona that was acceptable to the world. _How the fuck do you find a man like that?_  

****

Jefferson's fist came down. Hitting Emma like a lightning flash. Her head slammed back into the wall behind her.  The blinding pain from smashing the window returned. The shock, lack of sleep and physical endurance her body was subjected to make her feel incoherent. She fell to her knees. Regina watched in horror when Emma started to vomit. It raised the brunette's concerns about Emma having a concussion. She yelled at Jefferson. He turned. Slapping her through the face with a backhand.

Emma was up in an instance.  "You think that makes you a man!" Regina saw the effect it had on Jefferson.  He took a step back. His breathing became laboured. His body language became defensive.  Emma carried on. "You think that little worm between your legs makes you a man! You are as useless as your father!"

Jefferson retreated. "No, no, stop it.  Stop saying that!"  Regina heard the pleading in his voice.  Her face adorned a small frown.

"Ma, bring the cane?"  Emma yelled suddenly.  Regina watched the man as he literally shrunk in size. "Uncooked street-meat! That you all ever gonna be!" Emma was dropping her h's and r's.  With every word, Jefferson reacted.  When he closed his ears, Emma yelled harder.  "Abomination in the eyes of the lord! I'll be whipping that fuck-whore ass of ya boy! Casting the devil out of that worthless Soul of yours!"

 

"Stop!"  Jefferson stretched the word in agony as he fell to his knees, openly weeping.  Emma saw the camera.  Its red recording light was blinking like an ominous intruder.  She gave Regina a look. At first, her response was a more prominent frown. She watched as Emma focused on the crying man, then the recorder. Regina gave her a half smile.  Her shoulders pulled back.  For the first time since Jefferson hit her in the face, she felt more like herself.  The confidence of the Evil Queen returned.  Her dark, penetrating glare bore into the pathetic man.  She watched him. Not as a victim. She observed every movement, facial expression, and gesture as a woman who had a doctorate in Criminal Psychology.  Regina understood everything Emma wanted in that one look. She felt the relief as the dynamic of her persona made it to the front. Emma gave her that kind of strength.

"What the matter boy? You need that filthy little hole of yours cleaned before I spank you?" Jefferson whaled at the threat of an enema and a beating.  Regina knew from the school and social service's reports that Jefferson never received a spanking.  It was brutal, cruel whippings.  Emma was inflicting childhood abuse memories on the man. She knew Emma was a formidable Detective and an exceptional profiler, this provocation, however, was not of any conventional methods.  Sadly, Regina realized Emma was invoking this fear in the man from personal experience or knowledge.  They knew Jefferson was abused.  That his mother and grandmother inflicted strict religious principles on him, but the extent of Emma's confrontation exceeded their image of Jefferson as well as his abusers.  It indicated to Regina once more how dedicated Emma was to this case.  She might not have seen Jimmy as a suspect.  _Gods, none of them did_. But she understood Jefferson.  His mind, his warped ideology, his abusive past.

 

As much as Jefferson was protecting his mind against Emma's onslaught, his body betrayed him.  Regina saw his erection bulging in his pants at Emma's words.

"That's what I thought. It ain't good enough no more to have your father's disgusting cock in your mouth. You want to feel his shaft up your filthy hole. You too stupid to think I know.  I know.  And the lord knows. He sees all your repulsive thoughts!"  Jefferson whimpered against the hurtful words. Regina noticed, however, that he grew even harder. She would not have considered it possible at all, but her eyes were witness to it. Then his entire demeanour changed. As her critical eyes observed him. He transformed in front of them.  She recalled Emma's questions.  _Who are you now, who do you intensely wish to be?_ The statements she read, _Teachers stating that he acted so well that his character change before their eyes._ Regina shook her head lightly.  This was the reason why Emma wanted her complete attention on the man.

"James?"  Emma asked softly.  The man looked up. Teary-eyed.  James looked around as if he did not understand where he was or why he was there.  He got up on his feet, wiping his face.  "Emma?" The blonde smiled at him.  A full, sweet smile. "Yes!"

Emma tried to open her arms to embrace him, only to have her movements restrained by the manacle-like cuffs.  The chain between the cuffs rattled, startling James.  He took several steps forward.  First, he looked at Emma in a manner that indicated his love.  There was confusion in his gaze as well.  His words cleared the muddle for Regina.

"Emma, what is going on?  Where are we? What, what the hell is going on?  It feels like I have not seen you in years." Regina smiled internally. _Clever girl_.  Emma gave him a beaming smile. "I am so happy to see you."

"You are?"  He frowned, unsure of her words.  He glanced at Regina.  "What is she doing here?"  Emma distracted him.

"James, honey, we need to get out of here. Can you unlock this?"  She held up her chained wrists.  James looked at it in confusion. 

"Emma, why are you chained up?  Who did this to you?" She threw him a nervous smile. "Look in your pockets, you should have a key."  His caution increased.

"Why would I have the key?" 

"James?"  Emma grabbed his face with her shackled hands. "James, Jefferson did this.  You do remember Jefferson?" He stiffened at the mention of that name.  "Oh, gods!"  James patted himself down, finding the key in his pants pocket.  He struggled to get the correct key, trying a few before Emma's cuffs clicked open, falling at her feet. She threw her arms around James' neck. "Oh, James!"  She sobbed in his arms as he held on to her lightly.  His eyes were on Regina once more.

"Emma, what is she doing here?  What is going on?"  Emma looked at him strangely. "James?  You don’t remember?"  He shook his head.  Emma carried on. "Jefferson, he did this.  He brought her here."  Regina rolled her eyes internally. The trap was set. All her fear dissipated the moment Emma encouraged her to start profiling their suspect. She was in a completely different frame of mind.  With Emma in control of their situation and her hands unrestricted, Regina felt more at ease.

"That man is psychotic James. He is a deranged rapist and paedophile, we need to get away."  And there it was… Regina observed. A flinch at Emma's words. She could have called him anything.  She could have used the most derogatory terms in her extensive portfolio of profanities, but she called him the one thing he was not. A paedophile.  Children that were sexually victimize did not qualify as a prerequisite to suggest a boy is likely to grow up to become a sex offender.  Regina knew that in combination with maternal neglect, violence, humiliation and physical abuse, men like Jefferson fell into a higher risk category. Sexually abused children, however, only made up one in ten men that would molest a minor.

"Emma, I, I cannot let you go.  He will be angry."  James answered uncertainly. Emma laid her hands on his shoulders. "James, we need to go?"  He nodded his understanding.  Emma glanced at Regina, they were both waiting.  As Emma suspected, the moment James tried to unlock the constraints on her ankles, Jefferson appeared.  He halted what he was doing. Stood up and sneered at Emma.  "You stupid, stupid bitch!"  His fist slammed into Emma's gut. The unexpected force of it nearly caused her wind to leap from her lungs.  Jefferson turned.  He grabbed something from a nearby table. Regina watched as the anger seeped from his eyes. Then she saw what he had in his hand.  She tried to divert his attention from Emma to herself.  "Is that the only way you can control her?  With threats and violence?"

"Shut up!"  His voice filled the room.  Emma carried on where Regina stopped. "It is all he can do. He is too much of a coward to be a real man."  They witnessed the fury in his eyes.  His hand moved so fast that neither Emma nor Regina was ready for it.  Emma blinked.  The pain shot up from her cheek into her eye.  Regina watched in horror as Jefferson sliced Emma's cheek open.  The blonde did not react to the pain.  She knew that was what he wanted. She merely closed her eyes to get a handle on the searing stung that filled the side of her face.  She looked up at the man. Then she laughed.  Regina watched his shocked expression at the clear sound of Emma's laughter.  "You pathetic waste of air!  Will I have to teach you again?  The only way to cleanse that black soul of yours?  This time I will hold you down longer."

Jefferson took a step back.  His eyes actually held a bit of fear.  Emma cringed at her cruelty, but this was necessary. "The lord will give me strength boy. I will baptize you!"

Jefferson shook his head.  This was not the way things were supposed to go. Emma was like her! How could his Emma be like her?

His breathing was laboured, his muscles tense, he reacted.  "You lie, you lie! You are going to take care of me, love me?"

"How can I love you, Jeffie? You are the spawn of satan. You whore yourself to men. All you will ever get from me is scorn."  The words seemed to break him. An anguished sound escaped his throat.  It sounded like the cry of a caged animal as Jefferson fled from the room.

 

"Gods, that was a gamble Emma," Regina said as she sank down to the floor.  Emma looked at her for a moment before she let her body relax a bit.  Taking up a seat as close to Regina as what she could. The moment her hands were free, she searched for the carbon-fibre knife she concealed in her jean label.  To her relief, she felt the small weapon.  It will be alright.  Neal will find them.  She had a way to defend themselves.  She only needed to be patient. "Yeah, but it paid off.  My hands are free, and I think we will not see Jefferson again." Regina let out a sigh. 

"I know.  His strategy is not working with you.  He controlled the other woman with fear. How is your face?"

Emma was so pumped she had forgotten about all her pain. She answered Regina with her eyes closed. "My head hurts more.  I might have a concussion.  You need to keep me awake?"  She opened one eye to look at the Agent.  "How is your nose?"  The blood was dried on Regina's face and blouse.  The swelling seemed worse. Her eyes were starting to close up due to the inflammation. "He punches like a girl."  Emma laughed, then sucked in a breath when her cheek reminded her that they were not out of the woods yet.

****

_Be the man you were meant to be... Who are you now, who do you intensely wish to be?_   Neal looked at the note Emma scribbled down. He had to break her drawer open to find all her work in the case. His eyes scanned through the list of names that were written down on a notepad.  Jimmy was not on the list.  It made him feel a bit better. The guy was so insignificant. He got away with his ruse because no one paid him any mind.  Neal shook his head. He took the question and all of Emma's research back to the boardroom.  The answers were in this stack of misplaced notes.  Neal was sure that Emma has solved this.  He knew she was close.  All they had to do was find the breadcrumbs.

 

They have been at it for four hours. The FBI and Gillian were still had not arrived.  Neal did not care.  Will was working with the rest as if it was natural.  Without him, they would not even have known what happened.  The Lieutenants knew of his friendship with the Detectives.  They knew he was providing protective details for Gillian and Regina.  It was not his fault that Emma and Regina were taken, even if he did blame himself.  Spencer understood that Neal and Will cared, perhaps more than what they should, for the woman. It was better to have Scarlet in his sights.  He feared what a man with Will's resources would do to find the woman he loved.

 

Will's cell phone broke the eerie silence. He took it out.  He read the message and placed it back in his pocket. It was half-past seven in the morning.  "Gillian is on her way."  Neal nodded and took his leave.  He had no idea how he was going to break the news to the A.D.A. 

He waited by the door to their floor for Gillian.  One look. She knew what had happened with one look. "Oh gods, no!"  To her ears, it came out as a whisper.  The drumming sound of blood rushing through her caused her to think that.  In reality, she screamed the words.  Neal enveloped her waist. Carrying most of her weight as he escorted her to a quiet room.  As Neal closed the door, he pulled the crying woman into his arms.  He had no words of comfort for her.  All he could do was hold her.

****

Regina was playing a mind game with Emma to keep her awake. They used to play it often before they became lovers.  It was Regina's way to improve her young partner's language.  She could not reconcile with all the profanities that came from the blonde's mouth.  One day when Emma let loose a string of curses, ending with a repeated _fuck_ , Regina had enough. "Fornication!"

"What?" Emma asked. Regina rolled her eyes at the time.  Her patience was running thin. "The term would be, I beg your pardon…" Emma was clueless but realized her TO was waiting for a response. "I beg your pardon?"  Regina nodded her approval.

"Fuck, instead of using that word you can use fornication."

"Fornication?"  She pronounced the word as if it was _bollocks squirrel_ in her mouth.  Detective Mills still could not comprehend what a _bollocks squirrel_ was. It was one of a variety of idioms for which the older woman had no reference.  Emma, however, seemed to understand this vulgar language.

"F.U.C.K it is an acronym for Fornication Under Consent of the King." Emma looked at her partner.  Her mind boggled with the information. "Please elaborate?" Her sarcastic remark escaping the other woman as she folded her arms in defence.

"It is widely believed that a King or Tribal leader owned all under his reign. Therefore, when people got married, thus the origin of the marriage license, the King would permit them to fornicate. This origin is highly contested by linguists these days."

Emma was pissed.  "Does it give you gratification to make me feel stupid?" Regina looked at her. Disregarding the hurt she saw in the green eyes. "Imprudent."  Emma looked confused.  Regina carried on as if she did not feel the rookie's animosity. "Imprudent.  It is a more acceptable word for stupid. And no Miss Swan you are not in any manner imprudent."

****

"Onomatopoeia?" 

"Too easy Regina."

"If it is so easy, give me an example?"  Regina smirked.  They have been playing for ten minutes.  It surprised her that Emma's vocabulary was so extensive now.  Emma thought for a moment.  "The next time I make you _cum_ , I will _zap_ your _thumping_ _pussy_ so hard you will _purr_ as your _dripping_ folds _squish_ and _splatter_ , _dripping trickling_ moist down your legs as you _howl_ my name in a _gasping grown_." Emma articulated all the examples for Regina who sat gaping at Emma's words.

"Shit!"  She answered as a flurry of heat filled her together with an astonished look.  Emma smiled proudly.  "I guess I asked for that," Regina responded. Emma gave her a snort. "I have to admit Miss Swan.  You are still the only person I know that can turn linguistics into sex."  Emma smiled. Then stopped.  It was hurting now.  Everything, speaking, laughing.

"What, in your professional opinion, would Freud say about that?"  Regina knew it was one of Emma's defence mechanisms. She often used humour or vulgarity as a way to escape her inadequateness when it came to emotions.  It was easier for Emma to tell you she would fuck you until you screamed her name than to tell you she loved you.

"Freud would say you are overcompensating."

"Freud would disagree with that statement if he saw the size of my latest purple strap- on."

"Miss Swan!"  Regina freighted her disdain. It was Emma's reaction formation, hiding her pain and self-doubt.  Regina wanted the conversation to continue.  She noted that Emma was tired.  She only slept the few hours she was knocked out.  Her concern was for Emma, but she had her own problems.  Regina moved uncomfortably in her spot.

"Can you give me an example of Onomatopoeia, that does not include a sexual reference?"

"What would be the fun in that?"  Emma quibbled. She was trying to rest her head back against the wall without adding to her throbbing headache. Regina waited for the reply. 

"Agent Mills, your prodding will make my mind go _boom_! Causing brain matter to _whoosh_ past you!" Vulgarity.  Regina shook her head.

When Regina moved uncomfortably once more, it caught Emma's attention. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine Miss Swan."  The words came out too harsh.  Emma considered the woman. Regina was taking even measured breaths. The woman was tense.  Emma ran scenarios through her mind.  Regina wiggled again, clenching her fists. The anger in Emma hit the agent like a tidal wave.  Her hard eyes snapped open.  She knew Emma would call Jefferson to spare Regina the humiliation if she could.

"Emma, don’t?" The plea was soft.  Emma swallowed her angry tears back. "Alright."  She answered with strain in her voice.  She took her eyes off Regina.  She knew if she tried to console the woman or express sympathy, it would only make her discomfort and humiliation worse.  Therefore, Emma asked, "What is your next word?"

Regina nodded in relief. A tear made its way over her swollen cheeks.  "Oxymoron?"

"An idiot with a bad skin condition," Emma answered without a pause. Regina snickered. "Don’t make me laugh, it hurts!"  Emma inhaled.  She could do this.

"Job satisfaction." She gave it another thought, it was too obvious. "Gentlemen!" The statement made Regina sad.  "What about Neal?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? Neal is rugged. He can be gentle, and he is a man, but he sure as hell is no gentleman.  Oxymoron or not."  Regina had to agree.  "Give me a proper example?"  Emma thought. "As you trained me with your _kind cruelty_ , I was a _mature student_ , addressing you with my _vastly limited_ vocabulary attacking you with _meaningful nonsense_ that made you feel _cautious optimism_."  Emma gave Regina a shit face grin. "And I did not even have to be my _charming sardonic self_!"  Regina rolled her eyes.

"You like this game too much."

"Because I am good at it. I became determined to win one day.  Did you think I would stop playing?"  Emma watched Regina clench her jaw. There were more tears now.

"What is the next word?"  Emma asked with more enthusiasm than what she felt. "Pleonasm," Regina questioned strained.

"Oh, gods your favourite."  Emma rolled her eyes as she made the statement.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Regina asked.  "Oh, Agent Mills you know damn well what I refer to."  The brunette did look at Emma, quite clueless in the implication.  Emma gave an exasperated sigh.

"The **My favourite murder** **Twitter**.  #EvilReginaPhd" She goaded Regina, who shook her head in denial. "Fine, and I quote: Dear Ladies, I love your podcast. It supplies me with endless amusement.  I would like to point out your overuse of pleonasm though. Please refer to these examples, dead body, murdered body, expired corpse, psychotic serial killer…" Regina kept quiet.  She swallowed, moving uncomfortably again.

 

"It is alright Gina," Emma whispered. Regina turned her back to Emma in her sitting position.  She could not hold back any longer.  Her humiliation and anger made her shoulders shake as a sob left her.

Emma felt desperately sorry for the proud woman as she watched Regina's dress pants take on a darker shade.  Emma knew this was part of Jefferson's psychological abuse. Breaking them down emotionally.  They had seen it on the DVD's of the other women.  This humiliation.  All the brunettes were subjected to it.  For Emma, this humiliated torture was worse than the bleeding wound on her cheek.  She was powerless to help Regina.  Neither with words nor by holding the woman.  Reassuring her that it was alright.

Wetting herself was a humiliation Emma was all too familiar with. To be filled with so much fear as a child that you pissed yourself, literary.  There was also the other kind when a child was refused a toilet break. Emma struggled with her emotions.  She needed to support Regina, take her mind off things.  She resorted to her displaced humour.

 

"Ahaa, ahaaa, My favourite murder…"  Emma sang.  She kept her eyes on Regina but carried on with her dialogue, switching from a high girly voice to a deeper speech.

      "Hi."

"Hello."

      "Ahem, that is Karen Killgariff," Emma noted enthusiastically high.

"And that is Georgia Hardstark. Hi." Emma quipped in the lower tone. 

      "This is My favourite murder, where we tell you of our favourite murders."

"Yes, where we fuck your mind with facts and historical accuracy while we talk about ourselves."  Emma giggled uncharacteristically at her joke.

"Do you have a corrections corner?"

"I do. We received this tweet from #EvilReginaPhd: _Dear Ladies, I love your podcast. It supplies me with endless amusement.  I would like to point out your overuse of pleonasm. Which is also referred to as tautology, which is the repetition of words_. More so, words meaning the exact same thing or describing one word with the second.  Please refer to these examples, round circle, a dark night, head honcho, tuna fish and true facts. _The last one might be ambiguous if you are Mr. Trump_."

"Well fuck you very much EvilReginaPhd. Pleonasm?  Your insightful perceptiveness is astute. Steven?  Steven, is it still a pleonasm if you use three terms?"

Emma tried a third, more masculine voice.  "I think that would be an exaggeration or hyperbole."

"Hyperbole?  Steven really! Give yourself a decrease in salary."

      "So, what the fuck, you mean we were criticized?"

"Imagine that! Caught out using pleonasms.  Georgia, stop using pleonasms.  Steven, from now on you Steven-out all pleonasms."

      "What if Steven, Steven-out the wrong word?"

"Oh, that is just great! Like the decomposed?"

      "Karen you make the decomposed corpse sound like a zombie."

"It is valid though."  Emma's voice turned serious. "You have to say decompose corpse, because a corps can be just dead, not necessarily decomposed. Steven! Don’t edit out the wrong word.  We will quiz you on our pleonasm use next week!"

 

Commercial break - "Are you tired of eating microwaved macaroni?" Karen's voice asked.

      "Try our new microwaved lasagna, it's just as bad but tastier."  

"Okay, so who goes first?  Steven?"

      "It's Georgia, this week." Then manly voice interjected.

"Are you sure, I don’t want to yell at you again."

"No, he's right, it's me. Da da… okay, here goes, this is a newish one. Have you ever heard of the Mad Hatter Murders?"

"Did it happen in Wonderland?" Emma was amused.  She looked towards Regina. She had stopped crying.

 

"No, but it is just as fucked up as that story.  Here goes.  This asshole killed ten women.  They were surrogates for a Boston Detective and an FBI Agent. But they only knew about four, which were in Boston.  So, this cop and agent profiled him, found him."

"So, they knew who he was?"

"Yeah, that is part of this whole fucked up case.  They knew who he was, his name was Jefferson Hatter.  They profiled him 100% They came across his murder-house."

"Wait, what? Murder-house like H.H Holms?"

"Kind off, all his tools and disguises and where he murdered and tortured these women. As well as DVD's of each killing.  But he was not there. In any case despite added security, because they knew this mother fucker was going to abduct them, he got to them anyway."

"What? How the fuck?"

"It gets worse.  This guy was the cabby for every cop in Boston.  And they got into the car with him!  He drugged them and chained them up in his basement."

"Oh gods, and they knew what was going to happen to them because they had seen the footage of the other woman?"

"I told you it is fucked up. And yes, this fucking fucker killed them and he did not stop.  The FBI is working with several Police Departments now, in every city he kills.  Always abducts a blonde with green eyes and a brunette with dark Brown eyes."

"Okay so I am safe, I have blue eyes. You are so fucked Georgia. Brunette with dark eyes. Is that it?"

"Yes, they are still looking for him.  The closest they ever got to him was when the agent and cop tracked him down."

"And they are now deceased bodies?  Rotten, decayed decomposed dead body corpses?"

 

"That is quite enough now Miss Swan."  Emma could hear the light laughter in Regina's voice. Her monologue did calm the brunette and took her mind off her discomfort.

"Agent Mills next is my favourite part."  Emma mock-whined. "Elvis is your favourite part of the show?"  Regina asked, a disbelieving eyebrow raise.  "And here I thought you listened to them to increase your already extensive knowledge of swear words." Regina paused a moment before she added. "That's all from us."  Regina spoke in a low tone, trying to imitate Karen Killgariff." Emma jumped in with her perky tone of Georgia Hardstark.

"Stay sexy!"

"And don’t get murdered."  Regina almost sounded bored.

"Elvis wants a cookie? Elvis!" Emma repeated when Regina did not react.

"Meow?"  Emma looked at Regina astonished.

"What?" Regina asked as Emma shook her head. "Meow?  Really.  Elvis does not sound like that!" Regina folded her arms. "Fine. Elvis? Want a cookie?"  Emma made a long whaled meow earning her more laughter.  "Alright, Miss Swan.  You do a better Elvis interpretation." Emma smiled smugly. Her silly attempt at the podcast she liked so much eased the tension. 

Regina smiled at her, grateful for the distraction. She was immensely uncomfortable now, but Emma's interruption helped.  Normally her antics annoyed Regina. She would choose the most inappropriate time to be either vulgar or use her displaced humor.  They fell into an easy conversation.  Never realizing Jefferson watched them from upstairs via the camera link.  His anger igniting further, with every smile or laughter from his captives.  _This won't do! Not at all!_


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shit his the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been hectic in my life. I completed this chapter a while ago, but I did not want to publish it without having the next chapter ready. I know you will not be able to wait a month for the next one. I will try my best to have it out by next week. Thank you for all the patience and staying with me.

**Chapter 18**

Graham Hunter went pale the moment he walked into the boardroom.  Cooper stood silent next to him. It was Cooper that assured him that without a reliable source, it would be the same witch hunt as a few nights before.  The picture in front of them told a different story. The room was filled with cops. All of whom were going through Emma's notes, trying to find a clue. Gillian sat with red eyes, going through Emma's diary, wiping her eyes now and again. The look on her face told its own story. She learned even more about Emma.  It saddened her that the supplementary information she found about Emma, the more apparent it became that she did not know the woman at all.

Belle and Will were working together, analyzing the video footage. He tapped into his resources, hoping with their skills and technology combined, they would see something.  Several police scanners reported in on surveillance. There were a lot of Officers canvassing the scene or patrolling the area.

 

The DA was the only person to give the FBI Agents any notice.  Locksley stood up.  Like the rest, he was dressed in the first clothes he could find.  He showed the Agents out.  "There is nothing you can do here.  You are too far behind to be of any value.  I suggest you go to the Boston branch and work from there."

Cooper started spewing jurisdiction.  The DA cut him off.  "You had jurisdiction!  The murders were your investigation.  We have an abduction now.  That is our jurisdiction.  Do I make myself clear?"  Cooper was ready to argue once more.  Hunter asked quietly, "Regina had indicated that Emma almost had it figured out."  Robin nodded. 

"Were they hurt?"  Hunter had a catch in his voice that was uncharacteristic. "Yes," The DA answered, wiping his face tiredly.  "We found blood on two scenes.  We are waiting for the results.  I will let you know."  Hunter nodded his thanks.

"Are you going to let it go, Agent?"  Cooper asked angrily.  Hunter turned to him.  "All this time Cooper, you have been riding Regina's wave.  She let you take the credit for all our accomplishments. Every case we solve, it is mostly Regina's profile that gets us over the line, and you reap the benefits. Now, when she needed you, you decided to follow the protocol.  So yes, I am leaving. I am trusting Neal to find my partner." 

 

Locksley watched the man walk away, deflated.  This will change things for their team; he was sure of it.  The DA went back into the room.  There was not much he could do.  It was his duty, however, to be there, as it was the Captain of the Boston Police Department's responsibility to be there.  They provided every possible resource the team needed.  Both men stood while looking at several detectives from other districts assisting.  There were even men from VICE and GIU.  The latter were keeping a concerned eye on Will Scarlet.  No one explained what he was doing there, nor did anyone object to any of his input.

 

There was a high in the room, as Detectives asked each other questions, slowly retracing Emma's information. More than a few wondered how the hell she placed everything together.  Neal was peppered with questions.  He answered to the best of his ability.  A sudden quietness hit the room as Tori and Red walked in.  Red looked appalling. She was tired, like the rest of them.  She had cried when she received the results. Tori held her, and Red was grateful for the warm comfort.  Now Red held a paper in her shaky hand.  Neal got up and took the document.  He shielded the M.E with his body from prying eyes.  He scanned the Doctor's findings.  Then he leaned in and held Red for a moment.  She let out a sob in his shoulder where her head rested. "Good job Doctor Lucas.  Now get some rest?"  She shook her head.  "There must be something I can do here?"  Neal looked towards Tori.  She nodded at him.  "Fine," Neal pointed to Killian.  Tori and Red took up chairs beside him.

Neal handed Doctor Lucas's report to Spencer.  "It is their blood."  He conveyed grimly.  "The first scene is Emma's. The second is Regina's." Spencer looked even more pissed than usual.

"My money is still on them."  Spencer's voice boomed through the room. "They are both as tough as it comes. But can you all find them before Swan kills that psychotic fuck? I am sure all of us would like a talk with Jefferson Hatter."  There was soft laughter.  He did his job. He was motivating overworked and tired people to push on.  He walked over to the Captain.  They discussed the matter quietly. Spencer knew all their asses were on the line. His especially.  He did not support his Detective when she first brought her theory to him.  Spencer did not involve the DA or his Captain until the morning Emma gave her report and profile to them all.  Spencer was certain that Cooper's career was over.  He saw Hunter's face, his eyes.  The man cared deeply for his partner, and it almost killed him to walk away and leave the case in Neal's hands.

 

Spencer received a call.  Neal had seen the man livid before. He had seen the murderous looks that only Emma Swan could invoke.  What Neal saw now terrified him.  "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Everyone stopped what they were doing.  Spencer motioned the DA over.  He placed the call on speaker.  "Spencer, it is my duty to report this to my superior.  She, in turn, will call the Senator."  Locksley echoed Spencer's resentment. "Cooper, you will create a shit storm that we won't be able to contain! All we need now is for every fucking reporter on the East Coast to descend on Boston!"  The Captain was already on a call to the Chief of Police and the Mayor.  Their conversation was short.  All the necessary authorities were advised the moment Spencer was certain of the abduction.  The Captain indicated to Belle to expect a conference call. Belle connected Cooper.  "Agent Knight?"  A deep male voice spoke to the Agent.  "Who the fuck is this?"  Cooper asked without thinking. Spencer slapped his hand over his face.  _You are so fucked now_.  He thought.

"SSA Knight, this is Deputy Director Harris," Cooper recognized his superior's voice. "The Gentleman you addressed so crudely is Senator Gibson of Massachusetts." The Senator continued.  "Agent Knight, you are to stand down.  Your superior has been informed. As for Senator Mills, I will personally advise her as soon as we have anything concrete to report. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir,"  Cooper answered despondently as the line went dead in his ear.  Neal wanted to laugh. Instead, he shook his head.  "Alright, lets carry on."

****

Emma was not surprised at all when a furious Jefferson made his way back to the basement. He got off on fear, and currently, neither woman displayed any form of fear. "You fucking whore!" He took his anger and frustration out on Emma first. He beat her, then kicked her.  She felt the assault.  Felt his fist connecting with her cheek where he had cut it open earlier. She heard Regina scream, but everything was off like it happened to someone else.  She knew she was in shock. The Detective could not tell if it was the concussion or lack of sleep, but her body did not react as it should have. She did not defend herself.  There was no crying or pleading.  Emma remembered Jefferson accusing his victims and beating them even more severely as they cried and begged. The sadistic man moved to Regina. Emma watched as he punched the brunette in the face.

"Stop it, James, stop it!"  His beating ceased. He turned to Emma. She was holding her ribs where he kicked her.  His breathing was hard.  "Why Emma? Why do you always choose her?  I am a good man! I fought by your side. You love my mom. Why am I not good enough?"  Emma felt the tears in her eyes.  There were a hundred reasons why she never chose James.  This man was not James. He asked the same questions James did. He acted the same. Emma wiped her tears. "James, I did choose you."  He looked at her in disbelief.  Emma knew, as much as Jefferson was trying to pull off a split personality, James was gone at her words.  She saw the anger, the hatred.  "You will never choose me over her."  He pointed furiously at Regina, his finger shaking as he did. "You will always choose the fuck-whore!"  Emma shook her head.  "No James. I have been waiting.  Waiting for four years. Regina was in Washington DC.  Jefferson brought her here."  Emma was still playing his game. Regina watched, an uneasiness settling in her gut.  She had no idea where Emma was going with this.  "You had four years James to make your move, to ask me out.  Instead, you sat by my window at night, watching me."  Jefferson had no idea that Emma knew that, he was so careful. He looked deep into Emma's eyes. He was looking for any deception. He looked towards Regina.  He saw the confusion on her face. Jefferson made up his mind.  "Fine. Then you prove it to me."  He stepped back to one of the metal tables in the room.  He picked up a revolver and the dagger.  Regina watched in shock as Emma's features changed to relief. "Emma?"  The Agent asked softly.  What she saw in Emma's eyes frightened her.

"I am tired, Regina.  So tired of fighting. This way I will spare you all the pain Julia went through.  It will be quick."  Jefferson listened to the conversation.  Emma did sound tired, and the expression Regina carried, spoke of her shock.  Jefferson smiled to himself.  _Finally! She would be mine_.

****

"Tori, you were the last one to see Emma.  Is there anything that stood out?" Neal questioned.  She thought about their more than civil conversation.  The note Emma gave her, still tucked in her pocket. The reminder of the note made her smile, then she frowned.

"Emma was writing in her note book." Neal rolled his eyes.  "Which one?"  There was a dozen. Tori stood up and gave Neal the note. "What does this mean?"  He did not know the address.  "She wrote down the address for me, then tore this piece out of her note book."

Neal moved fast.  He handed out all the notebooks.  "Look for a torn page."  There was renewed vigour in the group.  It took several minutes before one of the VICE Detective said he had it.  Neal looked at the page.  He was confused.  "James Nolan!  Who the fuck is James Nolan?"

At his words, Belle perked up.  "Detective Swan asked me to get her a number for a David Nolan. He is a Sheriff in a small town in Maine."  Spencer stepped in.  "Miss French, do you have a photograph of this David Nolan?"  They all expected it to be another alias for Jefferson Hatter.

Belle tapped a few keys.  All eyes were on her now.  As the picture of the Sheriff appeared on her screen, Neal and Will stood up.  Utter shock and stress clear on their faces. 

*****

 

Jefferson loaded the gun. He kept his eyes on Emma.  She said she would, but he still did not trust her. Jefferson had watched her for years.  If there was one certainty to Emma Swan, it was that she was unpredictable. He threw her the keys, then positioned the camera to capture every moment.  Emma unlocked the cuffs on her legs. Then she turned to Jefferson.  "Can I unlock her?" His jaw clenched, but he nodded. Emma approached Regina.  She looked over Emma's shoulder to see Jefferson pointing the weapon at her.  "Emma, what are you doing?"  Emma's voice was filled with emotion.  "I cannot let him hurt you.  I thought Neal would have found us by now.  He failed. I, I cannot do this again Regina.  There will be nothing left of me this time."  Regina understood that Emma referred to being raped. She swallowed.  "So, you made the decision for both of us?"  Jefferson watched as he noticed the disdain in Regina's face. She did not fake it.  This was not a ruse Emma was pulling.  The woman he thought Emma loved was disheartened. "Emma…"  Her voice was soft and filled with sorrow.  Their second chance would never come.  Emma had a determined look in her eyes.  She was really going through with this.

"Take the dagger," Jefferson instructed.  Emma walked over to the table and picked up the dagger.  She would make the sacrifice for him.  She would do what none of the other women could.  Emma held the weapon expertly in her hand.  "It will be over quickly Regina.  I promise.  You will not suffer."

****

Spencer asked what the matter was as he looked at the two men. They were daunting, soldiers.  One was a Detective and the other a mobster.  They were not the kind of men that got spooked. They were however upset now.  The picture on the screen shocked them into a world of their own.  Spencer could see each man trying to figure out his conundrum.

"Fuck, fuck!"  Will was the first to speak.  "James was adopted."  Neal searched his mind.  "Jesus, yes, he found out when his DNA was a match to…"

"David Nolan!" Will completed the sentence. "Cassidy think!  There is a reason why Emma made a note of this; why she contacted this man."  Neal was pacing. 

" _This is all about James and me and what happened in Hampton."_ Red's voice was soft and hoarse as she quoted Emma's words that first day she made her case in front of the DA.  Neal looked at her.  " _Be the man you were meant to be... Who are you now, who do you intensely wish to be?_   Jesus!" Neal shook his head.  "Jefferson took on James Durant's persona. He learned everything from James while they were both at the VA. But he does not want to be James Durant. He wants to be James Nolan.  A boy that was not cast away.  That belonged to a family. He needs to be with his twin brother.  Belle…"

"Already on it Detective."  The redhead answered as she searched for any property or vehicles registered to James Nolan.  When her laptop pinged, everyone held their breaths.  "He has a house on East 6th City Point."  All the cops jumped up like one man. 

Belle sent the complete address through to dispatch.  The house was less than two miles from the Precinct. The sirens were on the moment the cops were downstairs.  One of their own was in jeopardy. They would come back with Regina and Emma unharmed.  Belle was sure of it.

****

Jefferson watched every move, every expression on Regina's face.  She was torn.  Her pain was clear to see.  Jefferson was certain that Emma was doing this.  His Emma.  Finally, he would have won.  He observed as Emma approached Regina.  She spoke loud enough for Jefferson to hear the words.

Regina looked into Emma's eyes. She choked on the hardness she saw in them.  The Agent recalled the conversation she had with Gillian a few days before. " _No, dear, not me.  Neal.  The only person Emma truly loves and would sacrifice everything for is Neal.  Gillian, she would rather kill herself than to subject herself to sexual assault once more. That is what she is trying to tell you.”_  

Regina suddenly understood. They both witness Jefferson's brutality.  Regina watched as Julia Pierce's face was cut off and pulled over her upper features.  She heard the screams. She sat numb as she watched Julia suffocated under her own skin.  She watched the rape of Paula Jennings.  She realized what Emma went through with James.   The damage that was done, both physically and emotionally.  She comprehended what Emma was doing now.  Emma saw no way out.  This was her final sacrifice.  She would save them both the anguish of this sick bastard. Regina lifted her chin.  She wanted to see some kindness in Emma's eyes. There was none. "I am ready Emma."  The words came out as a choked sob.  Jefferson moved the camera, he wanted to see it, re-live it.  He wanted to watch the fuck-whore die at his love's hand.

Emma moved so fast it took Regina by surprise. She looked into the green eyes.  She was confused.  Jefferson watched that bewilderment with glee as Emma pulled the knife away from Regina.  The blood dripped off the dagger.  Jefferson could feel the excitement rushing through him. The dagger fell.  Emma was holding on tightly to Regina.

"It is alright love.  Let go?" Regina's eyes were full of disbelief.  "Emma?" Her mind was racing. She tried to think, but the adrenaline was rushing blood through her ears.  Emma spoke once more.  "I have you, Regina.  I will be with you until the end." Regina slowly descended to the floor. Jefferson could now see the blood on Regina's blouse.  He smiled, it was done.  He left the camera where it was and made his way to one of the tables.  Leaning against it as if he was watching something amusing.  "Get on with it Emma!"  He yelled as his patience waned.

"Shut the fuck up James!  I did what you asked, I killed her.  Now I will say goodbye.  My way, as long as I need to."  He rolled his eyes but allowed the woman who was now openly weeping to continue.

Emma tugged a strand of Regina's hair behind her ear. She was leaning over her friend, constantly aware of Jefferson's movements.  She let the tears fell.  Regina could see more in her eyes now.  More perhaps than what she understood.  Emma wiped a stray tear off Regina's cheek, leaving a blood smear there. 

"You are so beautiful. I love…"  Emma could not finish the sentence as she choked on a sob.  She placed Regina's hands on the red stain of her blouse. Her own hands blood covered pressing down on Regina side.  She held on to Regina's hands until her breathing slowed. Emma bent her head down to rest her forehead on Regina's as another sob raked through her body. Emma held on to the woman. Telling her over and over how sorry she was. When Emma lifted her head, she covered her mouth to stop herself from howling out her pain. She closed Regina's eyes with her bloodied fingers. She picked up the dagger, but Jefferson told her to leave it where it was.  Emma dropped the bloodied knife next to Regina's body as she got up. 

 

"I know she was a friend Emma,"  Jefferson said with projected sympathy as he opened his arms for Emma.  She fell into his embrace and cried. All her pain, all her fear.  When she stopped crying, she looked up at Jefferson.  "I only have you now James."  He smiled, bent down and kissed her. "Yes, Emma.  It is now just the two of us.  I will take care of you."  With those words, he lifted Emma so that she could sit on the table.  He kissed her again as he slowly unbuttoned his pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I completely, totally just did that!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As before, sorry it took so long for this update.

**Chapter 19**

Gillian was watching the video footage the Officers discovered in the camera at Jefferson's house. The footage from the basement. The first time, she and Neal watched it together. Much of what happened was revealed in the recording. It still left both of them mystified. As the full tale of Emma's deception played off in front of Neal, he shook his head. "I did not see this coming." He choked the confession to Gillian. She could not comfort him. "Will always told me she was more scared to live than what she was of dying. I never thought she would be this indifferent and utterly negligible towards her life." 

Emma's actions were something that she did not understand. Therefore, after Neal left, she watched it again. The second-time she knew what she was looking for. Still, she did not see what she expected. She played it over and over. After a while, she merely sat in front of the computer. She wanted to cry. At some point they all did. Even Spencer had a hard time keeping his emotions at bay. For the moment Gillian could not. She had cried until there were no more tears. All that remained was a numbness she could not explain. Her heart was breaking. She already knew she had lost Emma a few days before. She loved the blonde Detective That was the part that was eating at her. For Gillian, Emma was consistent, loving, kind… However, during this case, she learned another dynamic to Emma. She wanted to belief Emma did not show her the Dark Swan side, to protect her, because Emma loved her back. Gillian knew better currently. Everyone warned her. Emma was unpredictable. It made her irrational and dangerous. She was pushed to a point. The result was something no one foreseen, not even Regina. Gillian could see the shock in Regina's eyes. They could hear the low chuckle in the background. Jefferson was celebrating his victory. Gillian's mind asked all the correct questions, the footage, however, showed something else. There was not an inkling of communication between Emma and Regina. No warning to Regina about her actions. Regina sobbed the words _, I am ready Emma_ , that was all. An acceptance. No indication that she expected or understood anything more than the fact that Emma was going to kill her. Her body on the floor. Emma's words to Jefferson and still the camera was focused on Regina's unmoving form.

Gillian did not understand. Her mind told her one thing. The footage told her a different scenario. She asked Neal about her understanding. He shook his head. It made her wonder. He was the person that Emma trusted the most, spoke to the most. Her best friend, the man that understood her. Even he was crushed about Emma and her unpredictable destructive nature. Gillian's mind kept on mulling it over, looking at the video once more, watching Regina and Emma closely. She was certain there must have been something, anything. Emma must have given Regina a sign, an indication of her actions. There was none. Emma's eyes were cold on Regina. She plunged the knife forward. Regina's face filled with shock. _Was it at that moment? Did Regina know what Emma was going to do?_ Gillian let the rest of the video play out, without looking at it. Her brown eyes were brimming with tears once more. Regina fell to the floor. Blood everywhere. Gillian knew, if Jefferson kidnapped her and Emma instead of Regina and Emma, that they both would be dead.

**Six hours before**

"I know she was a friend Emma." Jefferson said with projected sympathy as he opened his arms for Emma. She fell into his embrace and cried. All her pain, all her fear. When she stopped crying, she looked up at Jefferson. "I only have you now James." He smiled, bent down and kissed her. "Yes, Emma. It is now just the two of us. I will take care of you." With those words, he lifted Emma so that she could sit on the table. He kissed her again as he slowly unbuttoned his pants. She kissed him back with a passion. Her hands in his hair. He stopped, looked at Emma and with a smile, pulled away. He glanced over towards Regina where she was laying in her own pool of blood. He smirked, then turned the camera to focus on Emma. She beaconed him with a finger. Jefferson enthusiastically approached her. Emma started to unbutton his shirt the moment he was within range. She pulled the shirt off his arms then hastily moved to his pants. He was excited, she smiled as she unbuttoned his jeans. Jefferson stopped struggling to get his arms out of his shirt. His breathing was laboured. He has dreamed of this moment for a lifetime. As Emma's hand glided over his penis through his under ware, he knew what he wanted, what he needed, his demand on Emma. "I want you to suck me off." It was not a question, it was a demand. She looked at him. He felt the shiver run through him, knew her eyes conveyed the hunger he felt. "After I cum in your mouth, I am going to fuck you in the ass." Emma made a purring noise. Jefferson questioned his choice for a moment. Emma already understood. This was what he knew. To suck and being sucked off. To fuck and being fucked in the ass. He had no idea what to do with a woman. Emma let him. She pushed everything aside. She cleared her mind of all distractions. Her everything filled with only one thought…Regina. She gave Jefferson everything he needed. He melted at Emma's touch. With his pants down, his arms still tangled in his shirt, Emma calculated what needed to be done. She calmed herself. She looked deep into his pale eyes. Jefferson saw something there. The fire, Emma's fire. His defences went down. That look. He knew that look, he had seen it before. It was a look he yearned for. Wished for it to be directed at him, now it was. All his work, all his life, was for this moment. A moment of unconditional love. 

****

Neal felt his heart clamp down. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He balled his first. _Drive faster_ , he urged himself. The sirens and lights from numerous police vehicles blazed down the road. Two miles never seem such a distance. _Hang on Emma, please hang on?_ He urged Emma to hear him, feel him. To know he was on his way.

****

His body filled with love. Emma's eyes filled with fire. Nothing changed in her eyes, there was no flicker of anything, other than the fire. Emma moved so swiftly. She took the Karambit from the back of her jeans the moment Jefferson turned to get the camera. At that moment, when she felt Jefferson relax at her touch, she attacked.

Emma sliced through his chest with the sharp blade. She could not tell if it was the shock or the dream state he was in prior to the attack, but he gave a grunt instead of a yelp, then looked at her oddly. She kicked him back but managed to stay on his feet. In that instance, Regina was up, stabbing the dagger into his back. It was only then that the women conveyed a look, just for an instance.

Jefferson turned to attack Regina. His mind not fully comprehending where the pain in his back came from. He turned. Emma was on him. She sliced the back of his right knee with the small knife. With his pants nearly on his ankles, she opened flesh. She ripped all the muscle and ligaments behind his knee. It forced him to the ground. He fell on his stomach, reaching forward. Trying to grab at Regina. Soft moans were coming from him now. Regina stabbed him once more, in the ass. She picked his left gluteus maximus to make sure he was completely disabled. He would not get back up. Then she saw Emma. She saw the knife and the direction it was moving in. She was in the process of striking at his neck, severing the aorta. It was part of a defence move she had learned in combat training with the Karambit.

Regina moved. She moved to grab Emma by her arm, to stop the motion that would kill this man. Her head screamed at her to stop, to let Emma end his life. Her heart knew Emma would not survive a cold-blooded killing.

The blonde was so enraged, consumed with vengeance. As she moved, she could hear Paula Jennings begging this fuck to stop. She heard Julia beg him to stop the assault on Cherise, even after the woman was dead. She thought about the seventeen-year-old Mandy. All the rage and pent up anger, not only for his atrocities but for so many other women that had suffered a similar fate. At that moment, Jefferson Hatter represented everything wrong and unjust in the world. Nothing inside her wanted to stop.

Regina pushed her back hard. The fury in Emma's eyes turned to Regina. For a moment, it was not Regina. It was her dark past staring back at her, the personification of all the silent suffered abuse at the hands of men. In her blind wrath, she did not see Regina. She screamed, she accused, then Regina held her. She could hear the other woman's racing heartbeat. The whispers of, _it's over Emma, let it go, it's over_. Then the excruciating sound of her sobs. Regina clung to her. Hoping that Emma's mind was not pushed too far. Regina saw the look in her eyes the moment she lashed out at Jefferson.

All these months of hunting him, dedicating so much of her time to catch him. The way she got into his mind, the stress of discovering another body. The anticipation of his capture.

The stress, anxiety and the adrenaline crush, became too much for Emma's body to handle. She fell to the floor. Regina could not support her weight. As Emma laid there, Regina became aware of the blood once more. She pulled Emma's black shirt up. "Jesus Emma, what have you done?" Regina looked around for something, anything to stop the bleeding with. She noticed that Jefferson was moving. She quickly dragged him to the manacles that held them only moments before. The key was still in the lock from when Emma set her free. Regina closed the lock on Jefferson. He was moaning now, yelling, crying. He cursed Regina. Screamed at Emma. All the deception, the loss of his love, it caused him so much agony. He felt like dying, all his work was undone. Years of planning, stalking, killing. Emma took everything from him.

Regina gave Emma one last look before she ascended the basement stairs. She hoped there were no more locked doors or traps. She made her way into the main house. There was nothing standing out. She looked for their weapons, their cell phones. She could not find it. She unlocked the front door, the brightness of the day stinging her eyes. Her lungs filled with fresh air. For the first time, she wondered how long he had kept them. She had forgotten her hunger, her discomfort, the state she was in. 

Regina found herself in the middle of a suburb. There was no indication of where they were. She did not even know if they were still in Boston. She ran to the first house she saw that had its curtains open. She banged on the door. An older lady, opened, looking at Regina through the slight gap the door chain allowed. The woman gave her one look. Saw the blood on Regina's silk shirt and pants. She backed away. Regina wanted to cry. "Please ma'am? Please call 911. Ask them to patch you through to Detective Cassidy from District C-6?"

The woman was very wary of Regina, she already had the phone in her hand, dialling 911. As soon as Regina heard the operator, she yelled as hard as she could. "Get Detective Cassidy. Tell him its FBI Agent Regina Mills. Give him the address and ask for an 11-41, officer down." With that, Regina dashed off. Back to the house, back to Emma.

****

Neal was patched into the 911 call as soon as the Operator was capable of doing it. He asked questions, bombarding the neighbour with one after the other. She could not answer any. The operator told him that she requested the 11-41. Neal's body went tight. He yelled his update into his scanner while driving. They were so close. "Call Hunter!" Neal instructed Killian who was holding on for dear life.

****

Regina rushed in. Emma was still breathing. She was pale. A pool of blood stained the floor where she was laying. Regina moved in behind Emma. Lifting her body, cradling the woman in her arms. "Hang on Emma. Please god, hang on. I got you, Emma. I am never letting go." She held the blonde tight against her. Their bodies warm against each other. Regina had a towel pressed against the gaping wound, where Emma plunged the dagger into her side. To create the scenario where Jefferson would think that the blood came from Regina. That she killed the brunette, that he had won. Regina did not want to think of that moment. Emma stabbed herself without any thought. Or did she think about it? Why did she not tell me? Regina found herself crying. Holding on to Emma a bit tighter. She knew, if she lost Emma now, she would never forgive herself.

****

Neal disregarded all protocol as he raced from the car. Killian had his back, but Neal stormed blindly into the house. He had hoped that if Regina could get out to make the call, it meant Jefferson was dead. 

He called for Emma and Regina. He had his gun out and followed Regina's voice. He descended the basement stairs in a flash. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. All he saw was Emma. Emma pale and unmoving in Regina's arms. Regina was crying.

"Oh god no!" He heard himself whisper. He would find out later that it was a scream. He sank to his knees. Killian moved past him.

"She is still alive Cassidy." The dark featured man called. Neal tried to move. He finally managed to get his radio to call for medical assistance. Neither men took notice of the whaling Jefferson.

Neal watched his movements as they played out in slow motion in front of him. He held Regina while the EMT's came rushing into the cellar. Assisting Emma. They placed her on oxygen, set up an I.V and braced her into a carry gurney while he looked on helplessly. The moment they moved the detective, everything seemed to return to normal speed. The rushing in his ears ceased. He could feel and move once more. Neal swept Regina into his arms. Carrying her all the way up to the ambulance. He told her he would meet them at the hospital. Regina held on to Emma's hand as the ambulance doors closed. Neal standing there, praying that they would be alright.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the people that stuck this one out with me. This story took much longer to write than what I intended. Extensive research and a blue period at the end of last year took up most of the time. For all the excellent comment and inspirations, new friends and my Nr.1 fan, you are so awesome. Thanks!  
> Been working on new ideas, but chucked them all. Thinking of writing something smutty. (Everyone that knows me is advising against this) LOL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I tied up all the loose ends. If I missed something, let me know.  
> Thank you for reading this. Hope to see you again. xxx DME  
> PS. If you liked this, tell your friends. I'm a kuddo slut!

**Chapter 20**

 

Killian looked down at the broken man.  By the sounds that he was making, the detective thought that his captives might have broken more than only his body.  There was something inside of him that wanted to leave the man exactly where he was.  Jefferson Hatter was wounded, not dead.  Neal returned to the cellar.  It took three men to keep the detective from killing the mad man.  Now Killian was considering letting him die.

He stood aside as another team of responders came to assist the injured man.  For them, he was a patient, a man in need of medical attention. He was not a serial killer, a man who raped, mutilated and killed women.  Killian wanted to strangle the man, or hit into his ass, where the wound was, causing as much pain as possible before these EMT's could save his life.

"Detective?"  It was the soft voice of an officer that brought him back.  As if the woman could read his mind, she brought him back from his dark thought. Killian inhaled.  There will be another day for this man to die.  He turned, leaving the officers and medics to continue their work.

 

Spencer was wise enough to dismiss both Neal and Kilian.  Hunter raced to the hospital the moment Killian called him, informing the agent that they had found his partner.  Neal was taken to the hospital as well.  He was in no condition to drive himself.  Killian stood on the lawn in front of the house.  There was nothing about the house or the surroundings to suggest the horror of what had taken place there.  He was certain if he interviewed Jefferson's neighbours, they would tell him what a kind, quiet man he is.  Never expecting the crimes that were committed next to them.  Killian shook his dark head. He decided to head back to his own precinct.  It has been weeks that he has been working from C-6.  His mind wandered a bit.  He was certain that after this case, everything would seem mediocre. Then the emotions came. Killian reined it in. Now was not the time to cry. There would be a time and place for it.  Later, when he was alone.

****

"Swan?" A surgeon asked in the waiting area.  Several people stood up.  The surgeon thought that they all looked tired. She had a little background on the circumstances regarding her patient.  The gaping wound at the side of the woman told its own story.  She was the head ER doctor when the two female detectives came in.  She looked at the printed patient information she was given. "Who is Neal Cassidy?"  The doctor asked with a frown when seven people stood up as she addressed them first.

Neal made his way over to the woman.  She took him to one side.  Talking to him in a whispered tone.  The rest of the team waited.  They saw Neal nodding profusely. Then he clapped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying out.  The tears were running freely over his face.

After explaining the trauma, Emma suffered to her abdomen she asked him carefully. "Was this another attempt to take her own life?"  For a moment Neal watched her in shock.  "What do you mean?"

The doctor moved uncomfortably.  "The wound is self-inflicted."  She answered emotionless.  Neal's mind was numb.  They stood in silence for a while.  Then his brain caught up.  "I will have to look at our evidence."  He stated, and it was the doctor's turn to look confused.  Neal explained.  "They were abducted. I assume it was a dagger?"  The doctor confirmed that the trauma was consistent with a double-edged blade. "This fuck makes his victims kill each other." Neal's mind was swimming.  He tried to figure out how Emma was stabbed when Jefferson made the blondes sacrifice the brunettes. _Only Emma would fucking stab herself instead of Regina_.  At the thought, the events became a clear picture in his conscience. He would have to see the DVD footage to be sure, but Emma's plan and their eventual escape made sense to him now.

For the benefit of the doctor, he explained the few details he knew he could divulge.  She shook her head at the explanation then questioned. "Jefferson Hatter?"  Neal confirmed.

She had to chase three police officers out of her ER.  They refused to let the man out of their sights.  His injuries were not critical.  Disabling, but not critical.  He was patched up. She knew with the additional information on the man that his surgery would likely be bumped down.  _First, do no harm_. _The animal would get the best medical care; eventually_ , she thought.

She turned her thoughts to Neal once more.  He was Emma's listed next of kin.  He signed all the required forms.  Will filled them out for his friend.  The doctor now wanted to discuss the last questionnaire he had signed.  She held it out to him.  She noticed the tears flowing freely once more.  Neal nodded. The DNR was not his choice.  He was merely following Emma's wishes. "I will not perform the surgery.  I, however, need to sign my patient off to the next team of specialists."  Neal indicated his understanding.

"It is what she wants."  His voice was so soft. Then to doctor reached for his shoulder.  "There is always a risk, but I do not foresee that resuscitation would be a factor."  Neal wondered if she said it to him or herself. He then gave his consent for surgery.  The doctor was ready to leave.  "What about Regina?"  Hunter heard the question and stood closer. "I'm her partner."  The doctor deliberately misunderstood the statement.  She knew her patients were FBI and BPD. A life partner was considered family and she could give family an update. She could see that these people cared.  They needed a little reassurance.   "She will be fine.  We are treating her for dehydration and shock.  Agent Mills will not require any surgery."

The men thanked the woman.  Neal then explained to all of them that Emma stabbed herself. The blade entered between the transverse colon and the ascending colon. There was a little damage to her intestines.  She was being treated for sepsis.  The concern was her right kidney.  The dagger was long enough for Emma to pierce the organ.  The medical staff did not know how significant the injury was, therefore, the need for the emergency operation.

All stood in silence for a moment.  Spencer was the first to speak.  Informing the team that he would update the relevant people.  Neal told Tori to take Red home.  The M.E looked like shit.  Hunter headed back to the FBI office.  Gillian glared at Will.  She saw that he filled out all the forms for Emma.  He did so without any of cards.  It indicated to her that he knew Emma well. It depressed her even more.  She did not question his presence once while the detective was missing.  Now she had no idea what to say to the man.  It did not dawn on her that Will was the one who provided security for herself, Emma and Regina.  "What exactly are you doing here?"  Will smirked at the aggression she so openly tacked him with.  Neal gave the A.D.A a look that made her cringe.

"I'll see you later?  Let me know if anything changes?"  Will indicated that he would.  Then the two men embraced.  Gillian could see the care with which Will Scarlet held Neal.  The mobster gave the detective a friendly slap on the back, then returned to his seat.  Waiting alone in the hospital for Emma to come out of surgery.

****

There was an eerie, respectful silence at the station. Evidence was logged, arranged and documented.  Gillian knew they had enough to lock Jefferson up for the rest of his life.  There were questions remaining.  She knew her office would deal with it.  The question was, did she want to? 

****

Hunter received the phone call he knew would come and dreaded.  Senator Mills ripped into him. The accusations were unfound.  The Senator did not care.  What amazed Hunter was the fact that she took ten minutes to degrade him for getting her child hurt before she asked him of Regina's condition.  He hated the woman more than ever.

****

Will asked for an update on Regina a few hours into his waiting.  The nurse knew he was not FBI, BPD or family.  She, however, took the time to find out and advised him that the Agent was sleeping.  Will's restless nature took over.  He paced for a while until he noticed it was upsetting to the rest of the people in the area.

He sat down with a thud.  While Emma was missing, his mind was occupied with how much he was going to kill Jefferson Hatter.  Now the thoughts were filling him with dread.  He could not lose Emma, Neal couldn’t either.

"Mr Scarlet?"  He looked up at a different surgeon.  "I am doctor Lewis."  Will stood stiff. "Detective Cassidy informed us that we should tell you od Detective Swan's condition."

He nodded, not knowing what to expect.  The woman looked at him with kind eyes.

"Emma is out of surgery and stable.  She had lost a lot of blood. The damage to her abdomen was minimal. The injury to her kidney caused the most problems.  We repaired the damage, but it will take a while to see if she has full function of the organ.  She has a mild concussion as well as a few broken ribs. She will need to see a Plastic Surgeon for the gash on her cheek.  I stitched it up myself, as careful as I could, but it will be a nasty scar."

Will stood still with his arms crossed over his brought chest. "And Regina?"  The doctor thought about his request.  "The Senator is on her way here…"  She trailed off as if telling him would be the worst mistake of her career.  She looked into his eyes, however, then nodded. "She will be fine. She has a broken nose.  We are treating her for minor injuries."

Will thanked her and turned to go when he stopped. "And…?"

The doctor understood.  "The ladies did quite a number on him.  He will never walk normal or without pain, ever again."  Will swallowed, then thanked her.

 

As she walked off, he called Neal to update him. Will could hear the relief in his friend's voice.  They spoke for a while when Will looked up at a commotion.

"Cora Mills is here."  He told Neal.  "God help us all,"  Neal replied as they ended the call.

 

Will walked up to the woman.  She reminded him of an upmarket escort who was trying to relive her glory days. "Senator Mills?"  She looked the man up and down.  Depicting that he was no one of importance, then walked past him. Will looked one of the four bodyguards detailing for the senator, straight in the eyes.  The man went pale.  Instantly he took hold of the senator's arm, which incurred him a scold.  The other three's eyes were on Will now as well. They all recognized him. Will gave a menacing growl.  That was all it took.  The bodyguards went into overdrive.  One stayed behind, his firearm pointed at Will's chest.  The others moved the senator out in a quick move.  Guarding her, while yelling and holding her head down.  Will roared in laughter, promptly turned his back on the guard that was holding the gun and sat down.

A moment later, Hunter was standing there. "Now that is a super-power if I have ever seen one."  He slapped Will on the back.  "You have to tell me how you did that man?"  Will shook his head then updated the man.  He could see the relief in the agent's face.

 ****

Regina watched her mother on National television as she explained to the press that she did not see her daughter because there was an attempt on the senator's life.  She carried on in tears about how frightened she was. When questioned about Regina's injuries, she answered that her daughter was hanging on for dear life.  Regina rolled her dark eyes.

She was waiting for Neal and Hunter.  They told her of the incident in the waiting area.  After a while, she begged them to stop.  Her face was quite painful when she laughed.  She was visited by the entire team, except for Cooper.  He returned to Washington DC to face the music. The night before, she and Gillian spent a quiet few minutes together, when the A.D.A finally asked her a couple of questions.  Regina added bits and pieces to the tale they were all too familiar with.

"Emma looked at me…"  Her voice caught, and he eyes misted over. "I knew what she was about to do.  I could not stop her.  She moved so fast. Then she stabbed herself."  Gillian reached for her hand.  "You knew?  You knew what she was doing?"  Regina indicated that she did.  "When?"  The question was barely a whisper.

Regina snickered.  "With Emma, you learn after a while to expect strange things.  When she asked if she could unlock me, I knew she had a plan to get us out." Her voice trailed off.  She looked where her fingers were interlaced with Gillian's.  "I did not expect her almost to kill herself."  The admission was soft.  Gillian could see here the pain there.  "Was it the first time she did something like this?"  Regina shook her head at the question.

"I will be back tomorrow Regina.  Get some rest?"

 

Now she was waiting for Neal.  She knew he stayed with Emma for most of the night, even though the detective was still unconscienced. Regina thought this was a close call when Neal informed her of the night she saved Will and himself in Afghanistan. It was the closest Emma had ever come to being killed.  Regina thought about it long and hard.  All the tragedy in Emma's life.  All the narrow escapes.  She made up her mind at that moment.

****

Emma opened her eyes.  She felt rested.  Her senses were not on alert as they usually were.  She felt so at peace.  Then the pain alerted her that she was in trouble.  She tried to get up, but capable hands pushed her back.  AS the nurses tried to calm her, Emma's mind played off her situation.  _Regina_. "Regina?"

"Calm down Detective Swan. Agent Mills is all right."  The nurse watched as Emma tried to focus. The green eyes became clear.  Reluctantly she laid back. "Regina?"  She asked once more, trying to keep the darkness from swallowing her.

Emma's eyes fell on the figure standing by the window.  She took a moment to gather her thoughts.  Everything seemed vague.  She was thirsty. "Asshole."  She rasped out.  Neal turned to look at her for a moment.  Emma could see how tired he was.  Wordlessly he pressed the call button and handed Emma a glass of water with a straw.  She drank a few sips.  The effort of it seemed enormous.

"Where is Regina?" Neal gave her a faint smile.  "I'm well, thank you for asking Emma."  She rolled her eyes.  "Regina is staying with me for now.  When I left her this morning, she was sleeping.  Will is with her."  He moved out of the way as a nurse and a doctor came in to look her over.

"How long was I out?"

"Three days."  The doctor answered.  Emma seemed unfaced.  Her eyes reached for Neal.  The medical staff monitored a few things.  The doctor explained her condition to her, she hardly heard the man.  When they left, she reached for Neal.  "You found us?"  His smile was faint.  He was still guilt-ridden that he could not be there sooner.

"Yeah, eventually." She pressed his hand and he became aware of how weak she was.  "Regina?"  Emma asked once more.  "She has a broken nose and a sprained wrist.  She can hardly see because of the swelling on her cheek, but other than that, she is fine."  Emma inhaled her relief then closed her eyes.

"You gave me a scare there Em."  He watched as her face lit up a bit. "You and me both."

"Don’t do it again?"  He asked, much softer than he intended it to be.  Emma opened her eyes to look deep into his. "Where is he?"

Neal knew the question would come.  Jefferson was in the same hospital.  He was chained to a bed with two officers on him at all times.  "He's here.  In recovery."

"I want to see him?"  Neal uttered a definite no. She raised a brow at his insistence.

"His lawyer had tried everything so far.  Police brutally, wrongful incrassation and the insanity plea.  Then we showed him the video of Julia Pierce.  He threw up."  Emma smiled.  It was a horrific scene.  Most people would lose their lunch.

"Emma," Neal's voice was solemn.  "He will never walk without assistance again.  He will be in pain every day of his life.  Between you severing everything behind his knee and Regina slicing open his ass, he will never be able to abduct anyone."

Emma nodded vaguely.  She still could not believe that he was under her nose the whole time.

Neal saw her struggle with her thought.  "There are a few people that would like to see you."  His friend tried to smile.  "Get some rest.  I will call them.  They will all be relieved that you decided to join us. I'll tell them to come later?" Emma whispered her _okay_ , as her eyes fell shut one more.

****

Regina felt a rush of fear as she walked into Emma's room, only to discover the woman not to be in her bed.  She looked at Will who brought her to the hospital.  He kindly told the brunette to sit down, that he would track Emma down.  Will had a good idea as to where Emma was.

He found her in the hallway. She was sitting in a wheelchair, pensively watching the man in the room. He moved every once in a while.  His face contorted with pain. Emma felt more than hear Will.  "Is this worth it?"  Will stood silently next to her.  He had already made plans for the man.  The Irish Mob were no strangers to prison.  Jefferson would feel the pain of his victims, every day, for the rest of his life.

"If he was dead Emma…"  He did not have to finish the sentence.  She knew.  Death was instant.  She did not believe in a god that paid retribution to evil killers like him in the afterlife.  Jefferson would suffer, here, on earth, for his natural life.  She would make sure of it.

"Regina is here to see you,"  Will informed her quietly. Then he took the handles on her chair and wheeled her back to her room.

Regina's smile was warm.  After Will helped her back into the bed, he kissed his blonde friend and left.  They stared at each other for an eternity. Then Regina fidgeted.  Emma frowned at the movement.  Regina was about to tell her something she did not want to hear.  "You are leaving."  The statement was soft.  Regina met the green gaze and nodded.

"Emma?"  Her voice was that husky, soothing sound Emma so enjoyed.  She could hear the uncertainty in it as well.

"What?"  Emma asked as she held her hand out for the woman.  Regina took it and made a place for herself on the bed. She traced her middle finger over Emma's palm. Then brought it up to her lips to kiss.

"I, we… This case got emotional."  Emma indicated her understanding.  Regina seldom showed this side of herself.  The vulnerable side.  The part of her that Emma wanted to protect with all her being.

"What do you want Regina?"  This time the blonde's voice was stronger.  Regina stopped playing with Emma's fingers.  Their eyes met.  A slow smile formed on Regina's full lips.  _Those eyes_.  Everything she wanted to know was reflected in the green eyes.

She could see the love, the lust, the want.  There were promises of quiet nights and soft kisses.  _My future reflected in her eyes_.  Regina tried to comprehend the wonder of it.

"Will you love me forever?"  Emma gave Regina a wide smile.

"Si mi corazón, te amare por siempre."


End file.
